brother and I own to-day. He was churchwarden at
our little church, and he, too, was a magistrate. He did his duty in a
smaller way, but zealously and honestly, among the hillmen of this
district."

"There are gaps in your family history," Louise observed.

"The gaps, madam," Stephen explained, "are left by those who have
abandoned their natural heritage. We Strangeweys were hillfolk and
farmers, by descent and destiny, for more than four hundred years. Our
place is here upon the land, almost among the clouds, and those of us
who have realized it have led the lives God meant us to lead. There have
been some of our race who have been tempted into the lowlands and the
cities. Not one of them brought honor upon our name. Their pictures are
not here. They are not worthy to be here."

Stephen set down the candlesticks and returned to his place. Louise,
with her hands clasped behind her back, glanced toward John, who still
stood by her side.

"Tell me," she asked him, "have none of your people who went out into
the world done well for themselves?"

"Scarcely one," he admitted. "My brother's words seem a little sweeping,
but they are very near the truth. The air of the great cities seems to
have poisoned every Strangewey--"

"Not one," Stephen interrupted. "Colonel John Strangewey died leading
his regiment at Waterloo, an end well enough, but reached through many
years of evil conduct and loose living."

"He was a brave soldier," John put in quietly.

"That is true," Stephen admitted. "His best friends have claimed no
other quality for him. Madam," he went on, turning toward Louise, "lest
my welcome to you this evening should have seemed inhospitable, let me
tell you this. Every Strangewey who has left our county, and trodden the
downward path of failure, has done so at the instance of one of your
sex. That is why those of us who inherit the family spirit look askance
upon all strange women. That is why no woman is ever welcome within this
house."

Louise resumed her seat in the easy chair.

"I am so sorry," she murmured, looking down at her slipper. "I could not
help breaking down here, could I?"

"Nor could my brother fail to offer you the hospitality of this roof,"
Stephen admitted. "The incident was unfortunate but inevitable. It is a
matter for regret that we have so little to offer you in the way of
entertainment." He rose to his feet. The door had been opened. Jennings
was standing there with a candlestick