from France to avenge her, believing her dead himself--he
rejoiced at his near escape from the consequences of his folly. Nor was
he ever disabused of his error. For she had ceased to write to him by
then. And so he married you, madam, in good faith. That is the argument
I shall use with my Lord Carteret to make him understand that respect
for my father's memory urges me to depart in silence--save for what I
must have said to escape the impeachment with which you threatened me."

"Lord Carteret is a man of the world. He will understand the
far-reaching disturbance that must result from the disclosure of the
truth of this affair. He will pledge Mr. Templeton to silence, and the
truth, madam, will never be disclosed. That, I think, is all, madam."

"By God, sir," cried Rotherby, "that's damned handsome of you!"

"You epitomize it beautifully," said Mr. Caryll, with a reversion to his
habitual manner.

His mother, however, had no words at all. She advanced a step towards
Mr. Caryll, put out her hands, and then--portent of portents!--two tears
were seen to trickle down her cheeks, playing havoc, ploughing furrows
in the paint that overlaid them.

Mr. Caryll stepped forward quickly. The sight of those tears,
springing from that dried-up heart--withered by God alone knew what
blight--washing their way down those poor bedaubed cheeks, moved him to
a keener pity than anything he had ever looked upon. He took her hands,
and pressed them a moment, giving way for once to an impulse he could
not master.

She would have kissed his own in the abasement and gratitude of the
moment. But he restrained her.

"No more, your ladyship," said he, and by thus giving her once more the
title she had worn, he seemed to reinstate her in the station from which
in self-defence he had pulled her down. "Promise that you'll bear no
witness against me should so much be needed, and I'll cry quits with
you. Without your testimony, they cannot hurt me, even though they were
disposed to do so, which is scarcely likely."

"Sir--sir--" she faltered brokenly. "Could you--could you suppose--"

"Indeed, no. So no more, ma'am. You do but harass yourself. Fare you
well, my lady. If I may trespass for a few moments longer upon the
hospitality of Stretton House, I'll be your debtor."

"The house--and all--is yours, sir," she reminded him.

"There's but one thing in it that I'll carry off with me," said he. He
held the door for her.

She looked into h