, you know, she really believed it; she believed that she
was acting for the best."

"Of course," said Lord Crosland thoughtfully, "she didn't know Miss
Vane, I mean Lady Beauleigh, your wife. It would have made all the
difference."

"I've made that excuse for her often enough," said Sir Tancred. "But
it doesn't carry very far. Just look at the cold-bloodedness of it:
there was I, a helpless cripple, in a good deal of pain most of the
time, mad for a word of my wife; and that damned woman kept back her
letters. Talk about the cruelty of the Chinese--an ordinary woman can
give them points, and do it cheerfully!"

"They are terrors," said Lord Crosland with conviction.

"Well, there I lay; and I had to grin and bear it. But, well, I don't
want to talk about it. The only relief was that once a week my
stepmother seemed to feel bound to come and tell me that it was all for
my good; and I could talk to her about the manners and customs of the
banking classes. Then, after five and a half months of it, when I was
looking forward to getting free and to my wife, she came and told me
that Pamela was dead. I refused to believe it; and she gave me a
letter from Vane's solicitor informing her of the fact."

"Poor beggar!" said Lord Crosland.

Sir Tancred was silent; he was staring at nothing with sombre eyes.

Lord Crosland looked at him compassionately; presently he said, "It
explains your face--the change in it. I was wondering at it. I
couldn't understand it."

"What change? What's the matter with my face?" said Sir Tancred
indifferently.

"Well, you used to be a cheerful-looking beggar, don't you know. Now
you look like what do you call him--who fell from Heaven--Lucifer, son
of the Morning. I read about him at Vane's, mugging up poetry for that
exam."

"You'll hardly believe it," said Sir Tancred very seriously, "but I
took to reading books myself at Beauleigh, when I got all
right--reading books and mooning about. I had no energy. I went and
saw Vane's solicitor of course; but he could tell me nothing, or
wouldn't tell me. Said his client had called on him, and told him to
inform my stepmother of Pamela's death, and had not told him where she
died, or where he was now living. I fancied he was keeping something
back; but I had no energy, and I didn't drag it out of him. I went to
Stanley House; it was to be let. No one could tell me where the Vanes
had gone. I stayed at Beauleigh--mooning about.