there. His spaniel rose
too, and settled himself unobtrusively on his master's foot. Mr. Pendyce
moved and trod on him. The spaniel yelped.

"D--n the dog! Oh, poor fellow, John!" said Mr. Pendyce. He went back to
his seat, but since he had identified the wrong spot he was obliged in
a minute to return again to the plan. The spaniel John, cherishing
the hope that he had been justly treated, approached in a half circle,
fluttering his tail; he had scarcely reached Mr. Pendyce's foot when the
door was opened, and the first footman brought in a letter on a silver
salver.

Mr. Pendyce took the note, read it, turned to his bureau, and said: "No
answer."

He sat staring at this document in the silent room, and over his face in
turn passed anger, alarm, distrust, bewilderment. He had not the power
of making very clear his thought, except by speaking aloud, and he
muttered to himself. The spaniel John, who still nurtured a belief that
he had sinned, came and lay down very close against his leg.

Mr. Pendyce, never having reflected profoundly on the working morality
of his times, had the less difficulty in accepting it. Of violating
it he had practically no opportunity, and this rendered his position
stronger. It was from habit and tradition rather than from principle and
conviction that he was a man of good moral character.

And as he sat reading this note over and over, he suffered from a sense
of nausea.

It was couched in these terms:

"THE FIRS,

"May 20.

"DEAR SIR,

"You may or may not have heard that I have made your son, Mr. George
Pendyce, correspondent in a divorce suit against my wife. Neither for
your sake nor your son's, but for the sake of Mrs. Pendyce, who is the
only woman in these parts that I respect, I will withdraw the suit if
your son will give his word not to see my wife again.

"Please send me an early answer.

"I am,

"Your obedient servant,

"JASPAR BELLEW."

The acceptance of tradition (and to accept it was suitable to the
Squire's temperament) is occasionally marred by the impingement of
tradition on private life and comfort. It was legendary in his
class that young men's peccadilloes must be accepted with a certain
indulgence. They would, he said, be young men. They must, he would
remark, sow their wild oats. Such was his theory. The only difficulty he
now had was in applying it to his own particular case, a difficulty felt
by others in times past, and to be felt again in t