hiver with the luxury of it.

After that when Mrs. Harding says: "Our wretched boy, we must save
him,"--they all know why she says "our."

She goes on more calmly. "I realized. I knew--he is not alone here."

Sir John's voice is quiet, almost hollow. "He is not alone."

"But this woman--can you not deal with her--persuade her--beg her for my
sake--bribe her to leave my boy?"

Lady Cicely steps out. "There is no bribe needed. I am going. If I have
wronged him, and you, it shall be atoned."

Sir John has given no sign. He is standing stunned. She turns to him. "I
have heard and know now. I cannot ask for pity. But when I am gone--when
it is over--I want you to give him this letter--and I want you, you two,
to--to be as if I had never lived."

She lays the letter in his hand. Then without a sign, Lady Cicely passes
out. There is a great stillness in the house. Mrs. Harding has watched
Lady Cicely and Sir John in amazement. Sir John has sunk into a chair.
She breaks out, "John, for God's sake what does it mean--this
woman--speak--there is something awful, I must know."

"Yes, you must know. It is fate. Margaret, you do not know all. Two
years ago I married----"

"But this woman, this woman----"

"She is--she was--my wife."

. . . . . . .

And at this moment Harding breaks into the room. "Cicely, Cicely, I was
too late----" He sees the others. "Mother," he says in agony, "and
you----" He looks about. "Where is she? What is happening? I must
know----"

Sir John, as if following a mechanical impulse, has handed Harding the
letter. He tears it open and reads:

"Dearest, I am going away, to die. It cannot be long now. The doctor
told me to-day. That was why I couldn't speak or explain it to you and
was so strange at supper. But I am glad now. Good-by."

Harding turns upon Sir John with the snarl of a wolf. "What have you
done? Why have you driven her away? What right had you to her, you
devil? I loved her--She was mine----"

He had seized a pointed knife from the supper table. His shoulders are
crouched--he is about to spring on Sir John. Mrs. Harding has thrown
herself between them.

"Jack, Jack, you mustn't strike."

"Out of the way, I say, I'll----"

"Jack, Jack, you mustn't strike. Can't you understand? Don't you
see--what it is. . . ."

"What do you mean--stand back from me."

"Jack he--is--your--father."

The knife clatters to the floor. "My God!"

* * * * *