her father's arm and gazing absently at the dim fields stretching
away beyond the garden.

At the same time Mr. James Hardy, feeling, despite his bold front,
somewhat badly snubbed, was sitting on the beach thinking over the
situation. After a quarter of an hour in the company of Kate Nugent all
else seemed sordid and prosaic; his own conduct in his attempt to save
her brother from the consequences of his folly most sordid of all. He
wondered, gloomily, what she would think when she heard of it.

[Illustration: "He wondered, gloomily, what she would think when she
heard of it."]

He rose at last and in the pale light of the new moon walked slowly along
towards the town. In his present state of mind he wanted to talk about
Kate Nugent, and the only person who could be depended upon for doing
that was Samson Wilks. It was a never-tiring subject of the steward's,
and since his discovery of the state of Hardy's feelings in that quarter
the slightest allusion was sufficient to let loose a flood of
reminiscences.

It was dark by the time Hardy reached the alley, and in most of the
houses the lamps were lit behind drawn blinds. The steward's house,
however, was in darkness and there was no response when he tapped. He
turned the handle of the door and looked in. A dim figure rose with a
start from a chair.

"I hope you were not asleep?" said Hardy.

"No, sir," said the steward, in a relieved voice. "I thought it was
somebody else."

He placed a chair for his visitor and, having lit the lamp, slowly
lowered the blind and took a seat opposite.

"I've been sitting in the dark to make a certain party think I was out,"
he said, slowly. "She keeps making a excuse about Teddy to come over and
see me. Last night 'e talked about making a 'ole in the water to
celebrate 'Melia Kybird's wedding, and she came over and sat in that
chair and cried as if 'er 'art would break. After she'd gone Teddy comes
over, fierce as a eagle, and wants to know wot I've been saying to 'is
mother to make 'er cry. Between the two of 'em I 'ave a nice life of
it."

"He is still faithful to Miss Kybird, then?" said Hardy, with a sudden
sense of relief.

"Faithful?" said Mr. Wilks. "Faithful ain't no word for it. He's a
sticker, that's wot 'e is, and it's my misfortune that 'is mother takes
after 'im. I 'ave to go out afore breakfast and stay out till late at
night, and even then like as not she catches me on the doorstep."

"Well,