ossip itself. The deed was so new--so unlike anything that
had been conceived possible, especially in a man like Lord Ravenel, who
had always borne the character of a harmless, idle misanthropic
nonentity--that society was really nonplussed concerning it. Of the
many loquacious visitors who came that morning to pour upon Lady
Oldtower all the curiosity of Coltham--fashionable Coltham, famous for
all the scandal of haut ton--there was none who did not speak of Lord
Luxmore and his affairs with an uncomfortable, wondering awe. Some
suggested he was going mad--others, raking up stories current of his
early youth, thought he had turned Catholic again, and was about to
enter a monastery. One or two honest hearts protested that he was a
noble fellow, and it was a pity he had determined to be the last of the
Luxmores.

For ourselves--Mr. and Mrs. Halifax, Maud and I--we never spoke to one
another on the subject all the morning. Not until after luncheon, when
John and I had somehow stolen out of the way of the visitors, and were
walking to and fro in the garden. The sunny fruit garden--ancient,
Dutch, and square--with its barricade of a high hedge, a stone wall,
and between it and the house a shining fence of great laurel trees.

Maud appeared suddenly before us from among these laurels, breathless.

"I got away after you, father. I--I wanted to find some
strawberries--and--I wanted to speak to you."

"Speak on, little lady."

He linked her arm in his, and she paced between us up and down the
broad walk--but without diverging to the strawberry-beds. She was
grave, and paler than ordinary. Her father asked if she were tired?

"No, but my head aches. Those Coltham people do talk so. Father, I
want you to explain to me, for I can't well understand all this that
they have been saying about Lord Ravenel."

John explained, as simply and briefly as he could.

"I understand. Then, though he is Earl of Luxmore, he is quite
poor--poorer than any of us? And he has made himself poor in order to
pay his own and his father's debts, and keep other people from
suffering from any fault of his? Is it so?"

"Yes, my child."

"Is it not a very noble act, father?"

"Very noble."

"I think it is the noblest act I ever heard of. I should like to tell
him so. When is he coming to Beechwood?"

Maud spoke quickly, with flushed cheeks, in the impetuous manner she
inherited from her mother. Her question not being immediate