was innocent. That filthy
fellow, the Duke of Wharton, from being an empty fop turned himself on a
sudden into a Crown attorney to prosecute the peculators. It was an easy
road to fame for him, and the fool had a gift of eloquence. Stanhope's
death is on his conscience--or would be if he had one. That was six
months ago. When he discovered his error in the case of Stanhope and saw
the fatal consequences it had, he ceased his dirty lawyer's work. But
he had good grounds upon which to suspect others as highly placed as
Stanhope, and had he followed his suspicions he might have turned them
into certainties and discovered evidence. As it was, he let the matter
lie, content with the execution he had done, and the esteem into which
he had so suddenly hoisted himself--the damned profligate!"

Mr. Caryll let pass, as typical, the ludicrous want of logic in
Ostermore's strictures of his Grace of Wharton, and the application by
him to the duke of opprobrious terms that were no whit less applicable
to himself.

"Then, that being so, what cause for these alarms some six months
later?"

"Because," answered his lordship in a sudden burst of passion that
brought him to his feet, empurpled his face and swelled the veins of his
forehead, "because I am cursed with the filthiest fellow in England for
my son."

He said it with the air of one who throws a flood of light where
darkness has been hitherto, who supplies the key that must resolve at a
turn a whole situation. But Mr. Caryll blinked foolishly.

"My wits are very dull, I fear," said he. "I still cannot understand."

"Then I'll make it all clear to you," said his lordship.

Leduc appeared at the arbor entrance.

"What now?" asked Mr. Caryll.

"Her ladyship is approaching, sir," answered Leduc the vigilant.

CHAPTER XIV. LADY OSTERMORE

Lord Ostermore and Mr. Caryll looked across the lawn towards the house,
but failed to see any sign of her ladyship's approach.

Mr. Caryll raised questioning eyes to his servant's stolid face, and in
that moment caught the faintest rustle of a gown behind the arbor. He
half-turned to my lord, and nodded slightly in the direction of the
sound, a smile twisting his lips. With a gesture he dismissed Leduc, who
returned to the neighborhood of the pond.

His lordship frowned, angered by the interruption. Then: "If your
ladyship will come inside," said he, "you will hear better and with
greater comfort."

"Not to speak of dignity,"