aving omitted to do his duty, he screens his fault by
a----positive misstatement, when his intended return home makes further
concealment impossible."

"All that, however, is of little moment," said Lord George, who could
not but see that the Dean was already complaining that he had been left
without information which he ought to have possessed when he was giving
his daughter to a probable heir to the title. "There is more than
that."

"What more?"

"He had a son born more than twelve months since."

"Who says so?" exclaimed the Dean, jumping up from his chair.

"I heard it first,--or rather Mary did,--in common conversation, from
an old friend. I then learned the truth from Knox. Though he had told
none of us, he had told Knox."

"And Knox has known it all through?"

"No, only lately. But he knows it now. Knox supposes that they are
coming home so that the people about may be reconciled to the idea of
his having an heir. There will be less trouble, he thinks, if the boy
comes now, than if he were never heard of till he was ten or fifteen
years old,--or perhaps till after my brother's death."

"There may be trouble enough still," said the Dean, almost with a gasp.

The Dean, it was clear, did not believe in the boy. Lord George
remembered that he himself had expressed disbelief, and that Mr. Knox
had almost rebuked him. "I have now told you all the facts," said Lord
George, "and have told them as soon as I knew them."

"You are as true as the sun," said the Dean, putting his hand on his
son-in-law's shoulder. "You will be honest. But you must not trust in
the honesty of others. Poor Mary!"

"She does not feel it in the least;--will not even interest herself
about it."

"She will feel it some day. She is no more than a child now. I feel it,
George;--I feel it; and you ought to feel it."

"I feel his ill-treatment of myself."

"What--in not telling you? That is probably no more than a small part
of a wide scheme. We must find out the truth of all this."

"I don't know what there is to find out," said Lord George, hoarsely.

"Nor do I; but I do feel that there must be something. Think of your
brother's position and standing,--of his past life and his present
character! This is no time now for being mealy-mouthed. When such a man
as he appears suddenly with a foreign woman and a foreign child, and
announces one as his wife and the other as his heir, having never
reported the existence of one or of the ot