came a servant from the house. So lost in anger
was all Richard's sense of decency that the mere supervention of the
man would not have been enough to have silenced him could he have found
adequate words in which to answer Mistress Horton. But even as he racked
his mind, the footman's voice broke the silence, and the words the
fellow uttered did what his presence alone might not have sufficed to
do.

"Mr. Vallancey is asking for you, sir," he announced.

Richard started. Vallancey! He had come at last, and his coming was
connected with the impending duel. The thought was paralyzing to young
Westmacott. The flush of anger faded from his face; its leaden hue
returned and he shivered as with cold. At last he mastered himself
sufficiently to ask:

"Where is he, Jasper?"

"In the library, sir," replied the servant. "Shall I bring him hither?"

"Yes--no," he answered. "I will come to him." He turned his back upon
the ladies, paused a moment, still irresolute. Then, as by an effort,
he followed the servant across the lawn and vanished through the ivied
porch.

As he went Diana flew to her cousin. Her shallow nature was touched with
transient pity. "My poor Ruth..." she murmured soothingly, and set her
arm about the other's waist. There was a gleam of tears in the eyes Ruth
turned upon her. Together they came to the granite seat and sank to it
side by side, fronting the placid river. There Ruth, her elbows on her
knees, cradled her chin in her hands, and with a sigh of misery stared
straight before her.

"It was untrue!" she said at last. "What Richard said of me was untrue."

"Why, yes," Diana snapped, contemptuous. "The only truth is that Richard
is afraid."

Ruth shivered. "Ah, no," she pleaded--she knew how true was the
impeachment. "Don't say it, Diana."

"It matters little that I say it," snorted Diana impatiently. "It is a
truth proclaimed by the first glance at him."

"He is in poor health, perhaps," said Ruth, seeking miserably to excuse
him.

"Aye," said Diana. "He's suffering from an ague--the result of a lack
of courage. That he should so have spoken to you! Give me patience,
Heaven!"

Ruth crimsoned again at the memory of his words; a wave of indignation
swept through her gentle soul, but was gone at once, leaving an
ineffable sadness in its room. What was to be done? She turned to Diana
for counsel. But Diana was still whipping up her scorn.

"If he goes out to meet Mr. Wilding, he'll shame h