Presented by 
 MISS HELEN MILLER GOULD 
 
 TO THE 
 
 International Committee 
 
 OF 
 
 Young Men's Christian Associations 
 
 FOR USE OF 
 
 American Soldiers 
 
 6-0-B37B6 N U M B E R 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 Tristram 
 of Blent
 
 BT THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 A Man of Mark 
 
 Mr Witt's Widow 
 
 Father Stafford 
 
 A Change of Air 
 
 Half a Hero 
 
 The Prisoner of Zenda 
 
 The God in the Car 
 
 The Dolly Dialogues 
 
 Comedies of Courtship 
 
 The Chronicles of Count Antonio 
 
 The Heart of Princess Osra 
 
 Phroso 
 
 Simon Dale 
 
 Rupert of Hentzau 
 
 The King's Mirror 
 
 QuiSANTE
 
 Tristram 
 of Blent 
 
 CA;/ episode in the ^tory 
 of an Pendent House 
 
 By 
 
 Anthony Hope 
 
 ^^.im.^ 
 
 New \ r k 
 
 McClure, Phillips &" Co 
 
 M C M I
 
 Copyright, igoo and igoi, by 
 ANTHONY HOPE HAWKINS 
 
 First and Second Impressions, August, igoi 
 
 Third and Fourth Impressions, September, igoi 
 
 Fifth Impression, November, 1901
 
 r73 
 
 A Table of the Contents 
 
 I. A Suppressed Passage i 
 
 II. Mr Cholderton's Imp lo 
 
 III. On Guard 22 
 
 IV. She Could an' She Would .... 34 
 V. The First Round 48 
 
 VI. The Attraction of It 61 
 
 VII. The Moment Draws Near .... 74 
 
 VIII. Duty and Mr Neeld 88 
 
 IX. The Man in Possession loi 
 
 X. Behold the Heir! 114 
 
 XI. A Phantom by the Pool 129 
 
 XII. Fighters and Doubters 143 
 
 XIII. In the Long Gallery 158 
 
 XIV. The Very Same Day 173 
 
 XV. An Inquisition Interrupted .... 190 
 
 XVI. The New Life 205 
 
 [v] 
 
 625467
 
 A Table of the Contents 
 
 Page 
 
 XVII. River Scenes and Bric-a-Brac . . 220 
 
 XVIII. Conspirators and a Crux . . . 233 
 
 XIX. In the Matter of Blinkhampton 248 
 
 XX. The Tristram Way — A Specimen 264 
 
 XXI. The Persistence of Blent 
 
 XXII. An Insult to the Blood . 
 
 XXIII. A Decree of Banishment 
 
 XXIV. After the End of All 
 XXV. There's the Lady Too ! 
 
 XXVI. A Business Call . . . 
 
 XXVII. Before Translation 
 
 XXVIII. The Cat and the Bell 
 
 XXIX. The Curmudgeon 
 
 XXX. Till the Next Generation 
 
 279 
 296 
 312 
 328 
 342 
 358 
 375 
 
 391 
 
 407 
 
 420 
 
 [vi]
 
 Tristram 
 of Blent
 
 A Suppressed Passage 
 
 MR JENKINSON NEELD was an elderly 
 man of comfortable private means ; he had 
 chambers in Pall Mall, close to the Im- 
 perium Club, and his short stoutish figure, topped by 
 a chubby spectacled face, might be seen entering that 
 dignified establishment every day at lunch time, and 
 also at the hour of dinner on the evenings when he 
 had no invitation elsewhere. He had once practised 
 at the Bar, and liked to explain that he had deserted 
 his profession for the pursuit of literature. He did 
 not, however, write on his own account ; he edited. 
 He would edit anything provided there was no great 
 public demand for an edition of it. Regardless of 
 present favor, he appealed to posterity — as gentle- 
 men with private means are quite entitled to do. Per- 
 haps he made rather high demands on posterity ; but 
 that was his business — and its. At any rate his taste 
 was curious and his conscience acute. He was very 
 minute and very scrupulous, very painstaking and 
 very discreet, in the exercise of his duties. Posterity 
 may perhaps like these qualities in an editor of me- 
 moirs and diaries ; for such were Mr Neeld's favorite 
 subjects. Sometimes he fell into a sore struggle be- 
 tween curiosity and discretion, having impulses in 
 himself which he forbore to attribute to posterity. 
 
 He was in just such a fix now — so he thought to 
 himself — as he perused the manuscript before him. 
 
 [I]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 It was the Journal of his deceased friend Josiah Chol- 
 derton, sometime Member of Parliament (in the Lib- 
 eral interest) for the borough of Baxton in Yorkshire, 
 Commercial Delegate to the Congress of Munich in 
 '64, and Inventor of the Hygroxeric Method of Dress- 
 ing Wool. No wonder posterity was to be interested 
 in Cholderton ! Yet at times — and especially during 
 his visits to the Continent — the diarist indulged him- 
 self in digressions about people he encountered ; and 
 these assumed now and then a character so personal, 
 or divulged episodes so private, that the editor had 
 recourse to his blue pencil and drew it with a sigh 
 through pages which he had himself found no small 
 relief from the severer record of Cholderton's services 
 to the commerce of his country. Mr Neeld sat now 
 with blue pencil judicially poised, considering the fol- 
 lowing passage in his friend's recollections. The en- 
 try bore date Heidelberg, 1875. 
 
 " At the widow's " (Mr Cholderton is speaking of a 
 certain Madame de Kries) " pleasant villa I became 
 acquainted with a lady who made something of a sen- 
 sation in her day, and whom I remember both for her 
 own sake and because of a curious occurrence con- 
 nected with her. A year and a half before (or there- 
 abouts) society had been startled by the elopement of 
 Miss T. with Sir R. E. They were married, went to 
 France, and lived together a month or two. Suddenly 
 Sir R. went ofif alone; whose the fault was nobody 
 knew, or at least it never came to my ears. The lady 
 was not long left in solitude, and, when I met her, she 
 passed as Mrs F., wafe of Captain F. The Captain 
 seemed to me an ordinary good-looking reckless 
 young fellow ; but Mrs F. was a more striking person. 
 She was tall, graceful, and very fair, a beautiful 
 woman (I might rather say girl) beyond question. 
 Talk revealed her as an absolute child in a moral 
 
 [2]
 
 A Suppressed Passage 
 
 sense, with a child's infinite candor, a child's infinite 
 deceit, a child's love of praise, a child's defiance of 
 censure where approval would be too dearly earned. 
 She was hardly a reasonable being, as we men of the 
 world understand the term ; she was however an ex- 
 ceedingly attractive creature. The natural feelings of 
 a woman, at least, were strong in her, and she was 
 fretting over the prospects of the baby who was soon 
 to be born to her. Captain F. shared her anxiety. I 
 understood their feelings even more fully (in any case 
 the situation was distressing) when I learnt from 
 Madame de Kries that in certain events (which hap- 
 pened later) the lady and her child after her would 
 become persons of rank and importance. 
 
 Now comes the scene which has stamped itself on 
 my memory. I was sitting in Madame de Kries' par- 
 lor with her and her daughter — an odd dark little 
 thing, five or six years old. Suddenly Mrs F. came 
 in. She was in a state of agitation and excitement by 
 no means healthy (I should suppose) for one in her 
 condition. She held a letter in her hand and waved 
 it in the air, crying. ' Sir R.'s dead, Sir R.'s dead ! We 
 can be married ! Oh, we're in time, in time, in time ! ' 
 Extraordinary as such exclamations may appear when 
 the circumstances and my own presence are consid- 
 ered, I have repeated them verbatim. Then she sank 
 down on the sofa, Madame de Kries kneeling by her, 
 while the Imp (as I called the child, whom I disliked) 
 stared at her open-eyed, wondering no doubt what the 
 fuss was about. Directly after F. came in, almost as 
 upset as Mrs F., and the pair between them managed 
 to explain to us that she had received a letter from Sir 
 R.'s servant (with whom she had apparently main- 
 tained some communication), announcing that his 
 master had, after two days' illness, died of heart com- 
 plaint on the 6th June. ' Think of the difference it 
 
 [3]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 makes, the enormous difference ! ' she gasped, jump- 
 ing up again and standing in the middle of the room. 
 She was so full of this idea that she did not spare a 
 thought to the dead man or to anything which might 
 strike us as peculiar or distasteful in her own attitude 
 and the way in which she received the news. ' We 
 shall be married directly,' she continued with that 
 strange absence of shame or pretence which always 
 marked her, ' and then it'll be all right, and nobody'll 
 be able to say a word in the future.' She went on in 
 this strain for a long while, until Madame de Kries at 
 last insisted on her calming herself, and proposed to 
 accompany her to her own house. At this point I 
 made my excuses and retired, the Imp following me 
 to the door and asking me, as I went out, why people 
 had to be married again when other people died; she 
 was a child who needed wiser and firmer bringing-up 
 than her mother gave her. 
 
 I did not myself see Captain and Mrs F. again, as 
 I left Heidelberg the next day, 22nd June. I learnt 
 however from Madame de Kries that the wedding was 
 hurried on and took place on the day following my de- 
 parture ; after this the pair went to Baden, and there, 
 a fortnight later, the child— a boy — was born. I must 
 confess that I was glad the young couple had avoided 
 the calamity they were in dread of, although I am not 
 sure that I had a right to wish that they should escape 
 the full consequences of their fault. 
 
 My feelings were abruptly changed when, on pay- 
 ing a flying visit to Madame de Kries a few months 
 later, I heard the sequel of the story, told to me in the 
 strictest confidence, and in violation, I fear, of the old 
 lady's pledge of secrecy. (She was a sad gossip, a 
 failing with which I have no sympathy.) Si-r R. E. did 
 not, in fact, die on the date reported. He fell into a 
 collapse, mistaken for death by those about him, and 
 
 [4]
 
 A Suppressed Passage 
 
 even by his medical attendant ; after lying in this 
 state for twenty-four hours he revived and lived nearly 
 a week longer. A second letter, apprising Mrs F. of 
 this fact, and announcing the correct date of his death 
 as June 12th, reached her at Baden on the 28th. By 
 this time she was married, but the validity of her new 
 union (solemnized on the 23rd) did not appear to be 
 affected. Nothing more was done, and the boy was 
 born, as I have stated, early in July. Only after this 
 event, which naturally engrossed the parents' atten- 
 tion, did the mistake into which they had fallen come 
 to be discovered. As a matter of form, and to avoid 
 doubts in the future, Captain F. wrote for the official 
 certificate of Sir R.'s death. When it came, it came 
 as a thunderbolt. Sir R. had been residing in a small 
 Russian town near the frontier ; he was interested, I 
 understood, in some business there. The servant to 
 whom I have referred was an uneducated man and 
 could not write ; he had picked up a little French but 
 spoke no Russian. Wishing to inform Mrs F. of what 
 had occurred, he had recourse to a professional letter- 
 writer, who perhaps knew as little French, or almost 
 as little, as himself, and was entirely ignorant of Eng- 
 lish. The servant gave the dates I have set down — 
 June 6th in the first letter, the 12th in the second. The 
 letter-writer put them down ; and Mrs F. read and 
 immediately accepted them. It did not cross her 
 mind or Captain F.'s that the dates used were the 
 ordinary Russian dates — were in fact ' Old Style,' and 
 consequently twelve days behind the reckoning of 
 Germany or of England. They might have been put 
 on inquiry by the long interval between the date of 
 the death as it was given and the receipt of the news; 
 in their excitement they paid no heed to it, and it 
 did not occur either to Madame de Kries or to myself 
 to raise the question. Indeed who thinks of the ' Old 
 
 [5]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 Style' at this period of the world's history? Besides, 
 I did not know at that time, and I do not think that 
 Madame de Kries did, where the first letter came 
 from ; Mrs F. said nothing about it. But when the 
 certificate arrived — about the middle of July, as I un- 
 derstood — the mistake was clear; for a note in the 
 official's hand translated the dates into New Style for 
 the benefit of the foreigners to whom he was supply- 
 ing the document. Sir R. E., first reported dead on 
 June 6th Old Style, otherwise June i8th New Style, 
 had actually died on the 12th Old Style, or 24th New 
 Style. 
 
 I have always thought this one of the most per- 
 verse little incidents which I have met with in the 
 course of my life, and I think it such still, when I con- 
 sider how easily it might have done no harm, and how 
 serious, and indeed irreparable, its actual conse- 
 quences were. The mistake as to the date of death 
 was the first source of confusion, since it caused Mrs 
 F.'s wedding to take place while her husband. Sir R., 
 had still a day to live. But this error would not in it- 
 self have proved fatal, since there would still have been 
 time to repeat the ceremony and make a valid mar- 
 riage of it before the birth of the child. Here the 
 misapprehension about the Old Style came in. Led 
 to believe that, although Sir R. lived six days longer 
 than was originally reported, yet none the less he died 
 on June 12th, the F.'s did not have the ceremony re- 
 peated. But he died, in fact, on the 24th as his wife 
 reckoned time, and her wedding to Captain F. on the 
 23rd was an idle and useless form. When the dis- 
 covery was made, the boy was born — and born out 
 of lawful wedlock. 
 
 What did they do then? I was pardonably inter- 
 ested in the matter, and inquired of Madame de Kries. 
 She was reticent, but I extracted from her the informa- 
 
 [6]
 
 A Suppressed Passage 
 
 tion that they were hurriedly married again. One 
 could laugh if the matter had not been so terribly seri- 
 ous to them and to their boy. For by now those events 
 had actually happened, and Mrs F. was not indeed in 
 possession of but next in succession to a considerable 
 estate and an ancient title. Marrying again could not 
 mend the matter. What else they did to mend or try 
 to mend it, Madame de Kries professed not to know. 
 I myself do not know either. There is only one thing 
 to say. They could not alter the date of the death ; 
 they could not alter the date of the wedding ; per- 
 haps it would seem rather more possible to alter the 
 date of the birth. At any rate, that is no business of 
 mine. I have set the story down because it seemed 
 a curious and interesting episode, but it is nothing to 
 me who succeeds or ought to succeed to this or that 
 title or estate. For my own part, I am inclined to 
 hope that the baby's prospects in life will not be 
 wrecked by the absurd Russian habit of using the Old 
 Style. 
 
 To return to serious questions, the customs-barrier 
 between " 
 
 Mr Jenkinson Neeld laid down his friend's Journal 
 and leant back in his chair. 
 
 " Really ! " he murmured to himself. " Really, 
 really ! " 
 
 Frowning in a perplexed fashion, he pushed the 
 manuscript aside and twiddled the blue pencil between 
 his fingers. The customs-barrier of which Josiah 
 Cholderton was about to speak had no power to in- 
 terest him. The story which he had read interested 
 him a good deal ; it was an odd little bit of human his- 
 tory, a disastrous turn of human fortunes. Besides, 
 Mr Neeld knew his London. He shook his head at 
 the Journal reprovingly, rose from his chair, went to 
 his book-case, and took down a Peerage. A reminis- 
 
 [7]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 cence was running' in his head. He turned to the let- 
 ter T (Ah, tliose hollowly discreet, painfully indiscreet 
 initials of Josiah Cholderton's ! Mysteries perhaps in 
 Baxton, Yorks, but none in Pall Mall !) and searched 
 the pages. This was the entry at which his finger 
 stopped — or rather part of the entry, for the volume 
 had more to say on the family than it is needful either 
 to believe or to repeat : — 
 
 " Tristram of Blent — Adelaide Louisa Aimee, in her 
 own right Baroness — 23rd in descent, the barony de- 
 scending to heirs general. Born 17th December 1853. 
 Married first Sir Randolph Edge, Bart. — no issue. 
 Secondly, Captain Henry Vincent Fitzhubert (late 
 Scots Guards), died 1877. Issue — one son (and heir) 
 Hon. Henry Austen Fitzhubert Tristram, born 20th 
 July 1875. The name of Tristram was assumed in lieu 
 of Fitzhubert by Royal Licence 1884. Seat — Blent 
 Hall, Devon " 
 
 Here Mr Neeld laid down the book. He had seen 
 what he wanted, and had no further concern with the 
 ancestry, the ramifications, the abodes or possessions 
 of the Tristrams of Blent. To him who knew, the en- 
 try itself was expressive in what it said and in what it 
 omitted ; read in conjunction with Josiah Cholderton's 
 Journal it was yet more eloquent. By itself it hinted 
 a scandal — else why no dates for the marriages ? With 
 the Journal it said something more. For the 20th is 
 not " early in July." Yet Mr Neeld had never 
 heard — ! He shut the book hastily and put it back 
 on the shelf. Returning to his desk, he took up the 
 blue pencil. But on second thoughts this instrument 
 did not content him. Scissors were to his hand ; with 
 them he carefully cut out from the manuscript the 
 whole account of Mr Cholderton's visit to Heidelberg
 
 A Suppressed Passage 
 
 (he would run no risks, and there was nothing im- 
 portant in it), dated it, marked it with the page to 
 which it belonged in the Journal, and locked it away 
 in a drawer. 
 
 He felt resentful toward his dead friend Josiah Chol- 
 derton. If there be a safe pastime, one warranted to 
 lead a man into no trouble and to entangle him in no 
 scandals, it would seem to lie in editing the Journal 
 of a Member of Parliament, a Commercial Delegate, 
 an Inventor of the Hygroxeric Method of Dressing 
 Wool. Josiah Cholderton had — not quite for the first 
 time — played him false. But never so badly as this 
 before ! 
 
 " Good gracious me ! " he muttered. " The thing is 
 nothing more nor less than an imputation on the legit- 
 imacy of the son and heir ! " 
 
 That same afternoon he went over to the Imperium 
 to vote at the election of members. It struck him as 
 one of the small coincidences of life that among the 
 candidates who faced the ballot was a Colonel Wil- 
 mot Edge, R.E. 
 
 " Any relation, I wonder? " mused Mr Neeld as he 
 dropped in an affirmative ball. But it may be added, 
 since not even the secrets of club ballots are to be 
 held sacred, that he bestowed one of a different sort 
 on a certain Mr William Iver, who was described as 
 a " Contractor," and whose name was familiar and 
 conspicuous on the hoardings that screened new build- 
 ings in London, and was consequently objectionable 
 to Mr Neeld's fastidious mind. 
 
 " I don't often l)lackball," he remarked to Lord 
 Southend as they were sitting down to whist, " but, 
 really, don't you think the Imperium should maintain 
 — er — a certain level ? " 
 
 " Tver's a devilish rich fellow and not a bad fellow 
 either," grunted my lord. 
 
 [9]
 
 II 
 
 Mr Cholderton's Imp 
 
 •''"It TES, madame, an elegant and spacious resi- 
 ^ dence, Filton Park. The photo? Here it is, 
 M madame. And Notts is a very eligible coun- 
 ty — socially speaking, remarkably eligible ; I've sent 
 several families to Notts. That photo, madame? 
 Hatchley Manor, in Sussex. Yes, good position — a 
 trifle low perhaps — I have heard complaints of — er — ■ 
 effluvium from the river — I'm anxious to give you per- 
 fect satisfaction, madame. It wouldn't pay me not to. 
 I want you to come back, madame, another summer. 
 I play for the break, if I may so put it — I beg your 
 pardon ! Yes, Birdcup is really a palatial residence — 
 Hants, yes — a beautiful county. But between our- 
 selves, madame, his lordship is a little hard to deal 
 with. Dilapidations I refer to, yes — his lordship is 
 exacting as to dilapidations. On the whole, I should 
 prefer to recommend Winterhurst — near Maidstone — 
 a pleasant town, Maidstone, and the clergy, I'm in- 
 formed, extremely active and sympathetic." 
 
 " It's a very ugly house," remarked Madame Za- 
 briska, throwing away the photograph of Winterhurst 
 with a gesture of decided refusal. 
 
 Mr Sloyd stroked his sleek hair and smiled depre- 
 catingly. 
 
 " With residences as with — er — ladies, beauty is 
 only skin deep," said he. " A thoroughly modern resi- 
 dence, madame — hot and cold — south aspect." He 
 stopped suddenly, perceiving that the queer dark little 
 woman in the big chair was laughing at him. " I 
 
 [10]
 
 Mr Cholderton's Imp 
 
 don't intend to convey," he resumed with dignity, 
 " that the mansion is hot and cold, but the bath- 
 rooms " 
 
 " Oh, I know," she interrupted, her great black eyes 
 still deriding him, while her thin face was screwed up 
 into seriousness, as she regarded Mr Sloyd's blameless 
 garments of springtime gray, his black-and-white tie, 
 his hair so very sleek, his drooping mustache, and 
 his pink cheeks. She had taken his measure as per- 
 fectly as the tailor himself, and was enjoying the coun- 
 terfeit presentment of a real London dandy who came 
 to her in the shape of a house-agent. " I don't want 
 a big place," she explained in EngHsh, with a foreign 
 touch about it. " There's only myself and my uncle, 
 Major Duplay — he'll be in directly, I expect — and 
 we've no more money than we want, Mr Sloyd." 
 
 Sloyd's eyes wandered round the large and hand- 
 some sitting-room in Berridge's Hotel, where he 
 found his client established. 
 
 " Oh, it doesn't matter for a few days," she added, 
 detecting his idea and smiling again. 
 
 This explanation of her position had the efTect of 
 making Sloyd's manner rather less florid and his lan- 
 guage less flowery. 
 
 " Among second-class but eminently genteel resi- 
 dences," he began, " I could confidently recom- 
 mend " 
 
 "Where's this?" she interrupted, picking up an- 
 other photograph, and regarding it with apparent lik- 
 ing. Looking at the foot, she read aloud, " Merrion 
 Lodge, property of the Right Honorable Baroness 
 Tristram of Blent." She looked up sharply at Sloyd. 
 
 " Ye-es, ye-es," said Sloyd, without much enthu- 
 siasm. " A very pretty neighborhood — a few miles 
 from Blentmouth — rising place, Blentmouth. And 
 it's a cheap house — small, you see, and old-fashioned." 
 
 [Ill
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " Not hot and cold ? " she asked with apparent inno- 
 cence. 
 
 Sloyd smiled uncomfortably. " I could ascertain all 
 that for you, madame." 
 
 He waited for her to speak again, but she had turned 
 thoughtful as she sat fingering the photograph. Pres- 
 ently she smiled again and said, " Yes, find out about 
 Merrion Lodge for me, Mr Sloyd." 
 
 He began to gather up his pictures and papers. 
 
 " Is Baron Tristram alive?" she asked suddenly. 
 
 Sloyd recovered his air of superiority. 
 
 " Her ladyship is a peeress in her own right," he ex- 
 plained. 
 
 " She's not married then? " 
 
 " A widow, madame." 
 
 " And wasn't her husband Baron Tristram?" 
 
 " Her husband would not have been Lord— excuse 
 me, madame, we say Lord — Tristram of Blent. Her 
 son will succeed to the title, of course. The family 
 reside at Blent Hall, only a few hundred yards from 
 Merrion Lodge, a picturesque mansion in the valley. 
 The Lodge, you perceive, stands high." 
 
 " I don't understand the family arrangements," re- 
 marked Madame Zabriska, " but I daresay I shall 
 learn it all if I go." 
 
 " If you had a ' Peerage,' madame " he sug- 
 gested, being himself rather vague about the mysteries 
 of a barony by writ. 
 
 " I'll get one from the waiter presently. Good- 
 morning, Mr Sloyd." 
 
 Sloyd was making his bow when the door opened 
 and a man came in. He was tall, erect, and good- 
 looking. Both air and manner were youthful, al- 
 though perhaps with a trace of artifice ; he would pass 
 for thirty-five on a casual glance, but not after a longer 
 one. 
 
 [12]
 
 Mr Cholderton's Imp 
 
 " My uncle, Major Duplay," said the little woman. 
 " This is Mr Sloyd, who's come about the house, 
 uncle." 
 
 Duplay greeted the house-agent with grave cour- 
 tesy, and entered into conversation with him, while 
 Madame Zabriska, relapsed again into an alert silence, 
 watched the pair. 
 
 The last thing that Madame Zabriska — the style sat 
 oddly on her child-like face and figure, but Mina Za- 
 briska at the age of twenty-eight had been a widow 
 three years — desired to do was harm ; the thing she 
 best loved to make was mischief. The essence of mis- 
 chief lay for her — perhaps for everybody — in curiosity ; 
 it was to put people in the situations in which they 
 least expected to find themselves, and to observe how 
 they comported themselves therein. As for hurting 
 their interests or even their feelings — no ; she was 
 certain that she did not want that ; was she not al- 
 ways terribly sorry when that happened, as it some- 
 times, and quite unaccountably, did? She would 
 weep then — but for their misfortune, be it understood, 
 not for any fault of hers. People did not always un- 
 derstand her; her mother had understood her per- 
 fectly, and consequently had never interfered with her 
 ways. Mina loved a mystification too, and especially 
 to mystify uncle Duplay, who thought himself so 
 clever — was clever indeed as men went, she acknowl- 
 edged generously; but men did not go far. It would 
 be fun to choose Mcrrion Lodge for her summer home, 
 first because her uncle would wonder why in the world 
 she took it, and secondly because she had guessed that 
 somebody might be surprised to see her there. So 
 she laid her plan, even as she had played her tricks 
 in the days when she was an odd little girl, and Mr 
 Choldcrton, not liking her, had with some justice 
 christened her the Imp. 
 
 [13]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 Major Duplay bowed Mr Sloyd to the door with 
 the understanding that full details of Merrion Lodge 
 were to be furnished in a day or two. Coming back 
 to the hearth-rug he spoke to his niece in French, as 
 was the custom with the pair when they were alone. 
 
 " And now, dear Mina," said he, " what has made 
 you set your mind on what seems distinctly the least 
 desirable of these houses ? " 
 
 "It's the cheapest, I expect, and I want to econo- 
 
 mize." 
 
 " People always do as soon as they've got any 
 money," reflected Duplay in a puzzled tone. " If you 
 were on half-pay as I am, you'd never want to do it." 
 
 " Well, I've another reason." This was already say- 
 ing more than she had meant to say. 
 
 " Which you don't mean to tell me? " 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 With a shrug he took out his cigarette-case and 
 handed it to her. 
 
 " You and your secrets ! " he exclaimed good- 
 humoredly. " Really, Mina, I more than earn my 
 keep by the pleasure I give you in not telling me 
 things. And then you go and do it ! " 
 
 " Shan't this time," said Mr Cholderton's Imp, 
 seeming not a day more than ten, in spite of her smok- 
 ing cigarette and her smart costume. 
 
 " Luckily I'm not curious — and I can trust you to 
 do nothing wrong." 
 
 " Well, I suppose so," she agreed with scornful com- 
 posure. '' Did you ever hear mother speak of a Mrs 
 Fitzhubert ? " 
 
 The major smiled under his heavy mustache as he 
 answered, " Never." 
 
 " Well, I have," said Mina with a world of signifi- 
 cance. " I heard her first through the door," she 
 added with a candid smile. " I was listening." 
 
 [14]
 
 Mr Cholderton's Imp 
 
 " You often were in those days." 
 
 " Oh, I am still — but on the inside of the door now. 
 And she told me about it afterward of her own ac- 
 cord. But it wouldn't interest you, uncle." 
 
 " Not in its present stage of revelation," he agreed, 
 with a little yawn. 
 
 " The funny old Englishman — you never saw him, 
 did you? — Mr Cholderton — he knew her. He rather 
 admired her too. He was there when she rushed in 
 
 and Never mind ! I was there too — such a guy ! 
 
 I had corkscrew curls, you know, and a very short 
 frock, and very long — other things. Oh, those frills ! 
 — And I suppose I really was the ugliest child ever 
 born. Old Cholderton hated me — he'd have liked to 
 box my ears, I know. But I think he was a little in 
 love with Mrs Fitzhubert. Oh, I've never asked for 
 that ' Peerage ! ' " 
 
 Major Duplay had resigned himself to a patient en- 
 durance of inadequate hints. His wits were not equal 
 to putting together the pieces or conducting a sort of 
 " missing word," or missing link, exercise to a trium- 
 phant issue. In time he would know all — supposing, 
 that is, that there were really anything to know. 
 Meanwhile he was not curious about other people's 
 afifairs ; he minded his own business. Keeping young 
 occupied much of his time ; and then there was always 
 the question of how it might prove possible to supple- 
 ment the half-pay to which his years of service in the 
 Swiss Army entitled him ; it was scanty, and but for 
 his niece's hospitality really insufficient. He thought 
 that he was a clever man, he had remained an honest 
 man, and he saw no reason why Fortune should not 
 some day make him a comfortable man ; she had never 
 done so yet, having sent him into the world as the 
 fifth child of a Protestant pastor in a French-speaking 
 canton, and never having given him so much as a well- 
 
 [15]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 to-do relative (even Madame de Kries' villa was on a 
 modest scale) until Mina married Adolf Zabriska and 
 kept that gentleman's money although she had the 
 misfortune to lose his company. His death seemed 
 to Duplay at least no great calamity ; that he had died 
 childless did not appear to have disappointed Mina 
 and was certainly no ground of complaint on her un- 
 cle's part. 
 
 Presumably Mr Sloyd's inquiries elicited satisfac- 
 tory information; perhaps Mina was not hard to 
 please. At all events, a week later she and the Major 
 got out at Blentmouth station and found Sloyd him- 
 self waiting to drive with them to Merrion Lodge ; he 
 had insisted on seeing them installed ; doubtless he 
 was, as he put it, playing for the break again. He 
 sat in the landau with his back to the horses and 
 pointed out the features of interest on the road ; his 
 couple of days' stay in the neighborhood seemed to 
 have made him an old inhabitant. 
 
 " Five hundred population five years ago," he ob- 
 served, waving his hand over Blentmouth in patroniz- 
 ing encouragement. " Two thousand winter, three 
 five summer months now — largely due to William 
 Iver, Esquire, of Fairholme — we shall pass Fairholme 
 directly — a wealthy gentleman who takes great inter- 
 est in the development of the town." 
 
 It was all Greek to the Major, but he nodded po- 
 litely. Mina was looking about her with keen eyes. 
 
 " That's Fairholme," Sloyd went on, as they came 
 to a large and rather new house situated on the skirts 
 of Blentmouth. " Observe the glass — those houses 
 cost thousands of pounds — grows peaches all the 
 year, they tell me. At this point, Madame Zabriska, 
 we turn and pursue the road by the river." And so 
 he ceased not to play guide-book till he landed them 
 at the door of Merrion Lodge itself, after a slow crawl 
 
 [i6]
 
 Mr Cholderton's Imp 
 
 of a quarter of a mile uphill. Below them in the val- 
 ley lay the Httle Blent, sparkling in the sunshine of a 
 summer afternoon, and beyond the river, facing them 
 on the opposite bank, no more perhaps than five hun- 
 dred yards away, was Blent Hall. Mina ran to the 
 parapet of the levelled terrace on which the Lodge 
 stood, and looked down. Blent Hall made three sides 
 of a square of old red-brick masonry, with a tower in 
 the centre ; it faced the river, and broad gravel-walks 
 and broader lawns of level close-shaven turf ran down 
 to the water's edge. 
 
 " Among the minor seats of the nobility Blent is 
 considered a very perfect example," she heard Sloyd 
 say to the Major, who was unobtrusively but stead- 
 ily urging him in the direction of the landau. She 
 tiirncd to bid him good-by, and he came up to her, 
 hat in hand. 
 
 " Thank you. I like the place." she said. " Do you 
 — do you think we shall make acquaintance with the 
 people at Blent Hall?" 
 
 " Her ladyship's in poor health, I hear, but I should 
 imagine she would make an efifort to call or at least 
 send cards. Good-by, madamc." 
 
 Duplay succeeded in starting the zealous man on his 
 homeward journey and then went into the house, 
 Mina remaining still outside, engaged in the contem- 
 plation of her new surroundings, above all of Blent 
 Hall, which was invested with a special interest for 
 her eyes. It was the abode of Mrs Fitzhubert. 
 
 With a little start she turned to find a young man 
 standing just on the other side of the parapet ; she 
 had not noticed his approach till he had given a low 
 cough to attract her attention. As he raised his hat 
 her quick vision took him in as it were in a complete 
 picture — the thin yet well-made body, the slight stoop 
 in the shoulders, the high forehead bordered with thick 
 
 [17]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 dark hair growing in such a shape that the brow- 
 seemed to rise almost to a peak, a long nose, a sensi- 
 tive month, a pointed chin, dark eyes with downward 
 lids. The young man — she would have guessed him at 
 twenty-two or three — had a complete composure of 
 manner; somehow she felt herself in the presence of 
 the lord of the soil — an absurd thing to feel, she told 
 herself. 
 
 "Madame Zabriska? My mother, Lady Tristram, 
 has sent me to bid you welcome in her name, but not 
 to disturb you by coming in so soon after your jour- 
 ney. It is our tradition to welcome guests at the mo- 
 ment of their arrival." 
 
 He spoke rather slowly, in a pleasant voice, but with 
 something in his air that puzzled Mina. It seemed 
 like a sort of watchfulness — not a slyness (that would 
 have fitted so badly with the rest of him), but perhaps 
 one might say a wariness — whether directed against 
 her or himself it was too soon for her even to con- 
 jecture. 
 
 Still rather startled, she forgot to express her 
 thanks, and said simply : 
 
 " You're Mr Fitzhubert Tristram? " 
 
 " Mr Tristram," he corrected her ; and she noticed 
 now for the first time the slow-moving smile which 
 soon became his leading characteristic in her thoughts. 
 It took such a time to spread, it seemed to feel its 
 way ; but it was a success when it came. " I use my 
 father's name only as a Christian name now. Tristram 
 is my surname ; that also, if I may repeat myself, is 
 one of our traditions." 
 
 "What, to change your names? The men, I 
 mean?" she asked, laughing a little. 
 
 " For anybody in the direct line to take the name 
 of Tristram — so that, in spite of the failure of male 
 heirs from time to time, the Tristrams of Blent should 
 
 [i8]
 
 Mr Cholderton^s Imp 
 
 always be Tristrams, you know, and not Fitzhuberts, 
 or Leighs, or Merrions " 
 
 " Merrion ? " 
 
 " My great-great — I forget how many greats — 
 grandfather was a Merrion and " 
 
 " Built this house? " 
 
 " Oh, no — a house where this stands. The old 
 house was burnt down in '95." 
 
 "As recently as that?" she exclaimed in surprise. 
 
 " 1795," he explained, " and this house was run up 
 then." 
 
 Mina felt that there was here a touch of pride ; with 
 a more complete mastery of idiomatic English she 
 might have called it " swagger." Nothing counted 
 that was less than a century old, it seemed, and he 
 spoke of a house of a hundred years' standing as she 
 might of a wooden shanty. Decidedly he was con- 
 scious of his position — over-conscious. 
 
 " I'm glad it was run up in time for us to take it," 
 she said, thinking she would try the effect of a little 
 chaff. 
 
 The effect was nothing; Harry Tristram took no 
 notice of the remark. 
 
 " I see," he observed, " from your calling me Fitz- 
 hubcrt that you've been looking up our recent his- 
 tory." 
 
 " Oh, just what there is in the ' Peerage.' " Her 
 look was mischievous now, but she restrained herself 
 from any hint of special knowledge. " I'll tell you as 
 much of ours some day." 
 
 She broke into a laugh, and then, carried away by 
 the beauty of the scene, the river and the stately peace- 
 ful old house by it, she stretched out her hands toward 
 Blent Hall, exclaiming: 
 
 " But we haven't anything like that in our his- 
 tory!" 
 
 [19]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 He turned to look with her, and stood in silence for 
 a minute or two. Then he spoke softly. 
 
 " Yes, I love it," he said. 
 
 She glanced at him ; his eyes were tender. Turn- 
 ing, he saw her glance. In a moment he seemed to 
 veil his eyes and to try to excuse the sentimental tone 
 of his remark by a matter-of-fact comment : 
 
 " But of course a man comes to like a place when 
 he's been accustomed to think of it as his home for 
 all his life past and to come." 
 
 " What would you do if you lost it ? " she asked. 
 
 " I've no intention of losing it," he answered, laugh- 
 ing, but looking again from her and toward his home. 
 " We've had it six hundred years ; we shan't lose it 
 now, I think." 
 
 " No, I suppose not." He was holding out his 
 hand. " Good-by, Mr Tristram. May I come and 
 thank your mother?" 
 
 " Oh, but she'll come here, if she's well enough." 
 
 " I'll save her the journey up the hill." 
 
 He bowed in courteous acceptance of her offer as 
 he shook hands. 
 
 " You see the foot-bridge over the river there ? 
 There's a gate at each end, but the gates are never 
 locked, so you can reach us from the road that way 
 if you're walking. If you want to drive, you must 
 go a quarter of a mile higher up, just below the Pool. 
 Good-by, Madame Zabriska." 
 
 Mina watched him all the way down the hill. He 
 had made an impression on her — an intellectual im- 
 pression, not a sentimental one. There was nothing 
 of the boy about him, unless it were in that little 
 flourish over the antiquity of his house and its sur- 
 roundings ; even that might be the usual thing — she 
 had not seen enough of his class to judge. There was 
 too that love of the place which he had shown. Lastly, 
 
 [20]
 
 Mr Cholderton's Imp 
 
 there was the odd air of wariness and watching ; such 
 it seemed to her, and it consented to seem nothing 
 else. 
 
 " I wonder," she thought, " if he knows anything 
 about Mrs Fitzhubert — and I wonder if it would make 
 any difference to him ! " Memory carried her back in 
 an instant to the moment when she, Mr Cholderton's 
 Imp, heard that beautiful woman cry, " Think of the 
 difference it makes, the enormous difference ! " She 
 drew in her breath in a sudden gasp. An idea had 
 flashed into her mind, showing her for the first time 
 the chance of a situation which had never yet crossed 
 her thoughts. 
 
 " Good gracious, is it possible that he couldn't keep 
 it, or that his mother couldn't give it to him, all the 
 same? " 
 
 [21]
 
 Ill 
 
 On Guard 
 
 HARRY TRISTRAM was just on twenty- 
 three ; to others, and to himself too perhaps 
 (if a man himself can attain any clear view), 
 he seemed older. Even the externals of his youth 
 had differed from the common run. Sent to school 
 like other boys, he had come home from Harrow one 
 Easter for the usual short holiday. He had never re- 
 turned ; he had not gone to the University ; he had 
 been abroad a good deal, travelling and studying, but 
 always in his mother's company. It was known that 
 she was in bad health ; it was assumed that either she 
 was very exacting or he very devoted, since to sepa- 
 rate him from her appeared impossible. Yet those 
 who observed them together saw no imperiousness 
 on her part and no excess of sentiment on his. Friend- 
 liness based on a thorough sympathy of mind was his 
 attitude if his demeanor revealed it truly ; while 
 Lady Tristram was to her son as she was to all the 
 world at this time, a creature of feelings now half cold 
 and of moods that reflected palely the intense impulses 
 of her youth. But a few years over forty, she grew 
 faded and faint in mind, it seemed, as well as in body, 
 and was no longer a merry comrade to the boy who 
 never left her. Yet he did not wish to leave her. To 
 her, indeed, he was not a boy, and nobody about the 
 place regarded him as other than a man. He had 
 been actually and effectively master of the house for 
 years, just as he was master of his own doings, of his 
 friendships, recreations, and pursuits. And he had 
 
 [22]
 
 On Guard 
 
 managed all well, except that he was not thought to 
 be very happy or to get much enjoyment from his life. 
 That was just an idea he gave of himself, and gave 
 involuntarily — in spite of taking his fair share in the 
 amusements of the neighborhood, and holding his 
 own well in its sports and athletics. But he was con- 
 sidered cold and very reserved. Had Mina Zabriska 
 remembered this use of " reserve," perhaps she would 
 have employed the word instead of " wariness." Or 
 perhaps, if his acquaintances had looked more keenly, 
 they would have come over to Alina's side and found 
 her term the more accurate. She spoke from a fresher 
 and sharper impression of him. 
 
 His childhood at least had been happy, while Lady 
 Tristram was still the bewilderingly delightful com- 
 panion who had got into so much hot water and made 
 so many people eager to get in after her. Joy lasted 
 with her as long as health did, and her health began 
 to fail only when her son approached fifteen. Another 
 thing happened about then, which formed the prelude 
 to the most vivid scene in the boy's life. Lady Tris- 
 tram was not habitually a religious woman ; that 
 temper of mind was too abstract for her ; she moved 
 among emotions and images, and had small dealings 
 with meditation or spiritual conceptions. But hap- 
 pening to be in a mood that laid her open to the in- 
 fluence, she heard in London one day a sermon 
 preached by a young man famous at the time, a great 
 searcher of fashionable hearts. She drove straight 
 from the church (it was a Friday morning) to Pad- 
 dington and took the first train home. Harry was 
 there — back from school for his holiday — and she found 
 him in the smoking-room, weighing a fish which he 
 had caught in the pool that the Blent forms above the 
 weir. There and then she fell on her knees on the floor 
 and poured forth to him the story of that Odyssey of 
 
 [23]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 hers which had shocked London society and is touched 
 upon in Mr Cholderton's Journal. He Hstened 
 amazed, embarrassed, puzzled up to a point ; a boy's 
 normal awkwardness was raised to its highest pitch ; 
 he did not want to hear his mother call herself a 
 wicked woman ; and anyhow it was a long while ago, 
 and he did not understand it all very well. The 
 woman lifted her eyes and looked at him ; she was 
 caught by the luxury of confession, of humiliation, of 
 offering her back to the whip. She told him he was 
 not her heir — that he would not be Tristram of Blent. 
 For a moment she laid her head on the floor at his feet. 
 She heard no sound from him, and presently looked 
 up at him again. His embarrassment had gone ; he 
 was standing rigidly still, his eyes gazing out toward 
 the river, his forehead wrinkled in a frown. He was 
 thinking. She went on kneeling there, saying no 
 more, staring at her son. It was characteristic of her 
 that she did not risk diminishing the effectiveness of 
 the scene, or the tragedy of her avowal, by explaining 
 the perverse accident owing to which her fault had 
 entailed such an aggravation of evil. Harry learnt 
 that later. 
 
 Later — and in a most different sort of interview. 
 From the first Harry had no thought of surrender ; his 
 mother had none either as soon as she had forgotten 
 her preacher. The discussion was resumed after a 
 week (Lady Tristram had spent the interval in bed) 
 on a business footing. She fotmd in him the same 
 carelessness of the world and its obligations that there 
 was in herself, but found it carried to the point of scorn 
 and allied to a tenacity of purpose and a keenness of 
 vision which she had never owned. Not a reproach 
 escaped him — less, she thought, from generosity than 
 because he chose to concentrate his mind on some- 
 thing useful. It was no use lamenting the past ; it 
 
 [24]
 
 On Guard 
 
 might be possible to undo it for all practical purposes. 
 The affair was never again referred to between them 
 except as a factor recommending or dictating some 
 course of action ; its private side — its revelation of 
 her and its effect (or what might have been its effect) 
 on his feelings toward her — was never spoken of. 
 Lady Tristram thought that the effect was nothing, 
 and the revelation not very surprising to her son. He 
 accepted without argument her own view — that she 
 had done nothing very strange but had fallen on very 
 bad luck. But he told her at once that he was not 
 going back to Harrow. She understood ; she agreed 
 to be watched, she abdicated her rule, she put every- 
 thing in his hands and obeyed him. 
 
 Thus, at fifteen, Harry Tristram took up his burden 
 and seemed to take up his manhood too. He never 
 wavered ; he always assumed that right and justice 
 were on his side, that he was not merely justified in 
 holding his place but bound in duty to keep it. Such 
 practical steps as could be taken were taken. The con- 
 federates set no limit to their preparations against 
 danger and their devices to avoid detection. If lies 
 were necessary, they would lie ; where falsification 
 was wanted, they falsified. There was no suspicion; 
 not a hint of it had reached their ears. Things were 
 so quiet that Lady Tristram often forgot the whole 
 affair ; her son watched always, his eyes keen for a 
 sight, his ear down to the earth for a sound, of danger. 
 No security relaxed his vigilance, but his vigilance be- 
 came so habitual, so entered into him, that his mother 
 ceased to notice it and it became a second nature to 
 himself. That it might miss nothing, it was universal ; 
 the merest stranger came within its ken. He watched 
 all mankind lest some one among men should be 
 seeking to take his treasure from him. Mr Cholder- 
 ton's Imp had not used her eyes in vain; but Harry's 
 
 [25]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 neighbors, content to call him reserved, had no idea 
 that there was anything in particular that he had to 
 hide. 
 
 There was one little point which, except for his per- 
 suasion of his own rectitude, might have seemed to 
 indicate an uneasy conscience, but was in fact only 
 evidence of a natural dislike to having an unwelcome 
 subject thrust under his notice. About a year after the 
 disclosure Lady Tristram had a letter from Mr Gains- 
 borough. This gentleman had married her cousin, and 
 the cousin, a woman of severe principles, had put an end 
 to all acquaintance in consequence of the " Odyssey." 
 She was dead, and her husband proposed to renew 
 friendly relations, saying that his daughter knew noth- 
 ing of past differences and was anxious to see her 
 kinsfolk. The letter was almost gushing, and Lady 
 Tristram, left to herself, would have answered it in 
 the same kind ; for while she had pleased herself she 
 bore no resentment against folk who had blamed her. 
 Moreover Gainsborough was poor, and somebody had 
 told her that the girl was pleasant ; she pitied poverty 
 and liked being kind to pleasant people. 
 
 " Shall we invite them to stay for a week or two? " 
 she had asked. 
 
 " Never," he said. " They shall never come here. 
 I don't want to know them, I won't see them." His 
 face was hard, angry, and even outraged at the no- 
 tion. 
 
 His mother said no more. If the barony and Blent 
 departed from Harry, on Lady Tristram's death they 
 would go to Cecily Gainsborough. If Harry had his 
 way, that girl should not even see his darling Blent. 
 If distrust of his mother entered at all into his deci- 
 sion, if he feared any indiscreet talk from her, he gave 
 no hint of it. It was enough that the girl had some 
 odious pretensions which he could and would defeat 
 
 [26]
 
 On Guard 
 
 but could not ignore — pretensions for his mind, in her 
 own she had none. 
 
 The sun had sunk behind the tower, and Lady Tris- 
 tram sat in a low chair by the river, enjoying the cool 
 of the evening. The Blent murmured as it ran ; the 
 fishes were feeding; the midges were out to feed, but 
 they did not bite Lady Tristram ; they never did ; 
 the fact had always been a comfort to her, and may 
 perhaps be allowed here to assume a mildly allegorical 
 meaning. If the cool of the evening may do the same, 
 it will serve very well to express the stage of life and 
 of feeling to which no more than the beginning of 
 middle age had brought her. It was rather absurd, but 
 she did not want to do or feel very much more ; and 
 it seemed as though her washes were to be respected. 
 A certain distance from things marked her now ; only 
 Harry w^as near to her, only Harry's triumph was 
 very important. She had outrun her vital income 
 and mortgaged future years ; if foreclosure threatened, 
 she maintained her old power of taking no heed of 
 disagreeable things, however imminent. She was still 
 very handsome and wished to go on being that to the 
 end ; fortunately fragility had always been her style 
 and always suited her. 
 
 Harry leant his elbow on a great stone vase which 
 stood on a pedestal and held a miniature wilderness 
 of flowers. 
 
 " I lunched at Fairholme," he was saying. " The 
 paint's all wet still, of course, and the doors stick a 
 bit, but I liked the family. He's genuine, she's home- 
 ly, and Janic's a good girl. They were very civil." 
 
 " I suppose so." 
 
 " Not overwhelmed," he added, as though wishing 
 to correct a wrong impression which yet might reason- 
 ably have arisen. 
 
 " I didn't mean that. I've met Mr Tver, and he 
 
 [27]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 wasn't at all overwhelmed. Mrs Iver was — out — 
 when I called, and I was — out — when she called." 
 Lady Tristram was visibly, although not ostentatious- 
 ly, allowing for the prejudices of a moral middle-class. 
 
 " Young Bob Broadley was there — you know who 
 I mean? At Mingham Farm, up above the Pool." 
 
 " I know — a handsome young man." 
 
 " I forgot he was handsome. Of course you know 
 him then! What a pity I'm not handsome, mother! " 
 
 " Oh, you've the air, though," she observed con- 
 tentedly. " Is he after Janie Iver? " 
 
 " So I imagine. I'm not sure that I'm not too. 
 Have I any chance against Bob Broadley ? " 
 
 She did not seem to take him seriously. 
 
 " They wouldn't look at Mr Broadley." (She was 
 pleasantly punctilious about all titles and courteous 
 methods of reference or address.) " Janie Iver's a 
 great heiress." 
 
 "And what about me?" he insisted, as he lit his 
 pipe and sat down opposite her. 
 
 " You mean it, Harry ? " 
 
 " There's no reason why I shouldn't marry, is 
 there ? " 
 
 " Why, you must marry, of course. But " 
 
 " We can do the blue blood business enough for 
 both." 
 
 " Yes, I didn't mean that." 
 
 " You mean — am I at all in love with her? " 
 
 " No, not quite. Oh, my dear Harry, I mean 
 wouldn't you like to be in love a little with somebody? 
 You could do it after you marry, of course, and you 
 certainly will if you marry now, but it's not so — so 
 comfortable." She looked at him with a sort of pity: 
 her feeling was that he gave himself no holidays. 
 
 He sat silent a moment seeming to consider some 
 picture which her suggestion conjured up. 
 
 [28]
 
 On Guard 
 
 " No good waiting for that," was his conclusion. 
 " Somehow if I married and had children, it would 
 seem to make everything more settled." His great 
 pre-occupation was on him again. " We could do with 
 some more money too," he added, " and, as I say, I'm 
 incHned to Uke the girl." 
 
 " What's she like ? " 
 
 " What you call a fine girl — tall — well made " 
 
 " She'll be fat some day, I expect." 
 
 " Straight features, broadish face, dark, rather heavy 
 brows — you know the sort of thing." 
 
 '' Oh, Harry, I hate all that ! " 
 
 " I don't ; I rather like it." He was smoking 
 meditatively, and jerked out what he had to say be- 
 tween the puffs. " I shouldn't like to mortgage 
 Blent," he went on a moment later. 
 
 " Mortgage Blent ? What for ? " 
 
 He raised a hand to ask to be heard out. " But I 
 should like to feel that I could at any moment lay 
 my hand on a big lump of ready money — say fifty, or 
 even a hundred, thousand pounds. I should like to be 
 able to pull it out of my breeches' pocket and say, 
 ' Take that and hold your tongue ! ' " He looked at 
 her to see if she followed what was in his mind. " I 
 think they'd take it," he ended. " I mean if things 
 got as far as that, you know." 
 
 " You mean the Gainsboroughs ? " 
 
 " Yes. Oh, anybody else would be cheaper than 
 that. Fifty thousand would be better than a very 
 doubtful case. But it would have to be done directly 
 — before a word was heard about it. I should like to 
 live with the check by me." 
 
 He spoke very simply, as another man might speak 
 of being ready to meet an improvement-rate or an ap- 
 plication from an impecunious brother. 
 
 " Don't you think it would be a good precaution? " 
 
 [29]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 he asked. Whether he meant the marriage, the check, 
 or the lady, was immaterial ; it came to the same thing. 
 
 " It's all very troublesome," Lady Tristram com- 
 plained. " It really half spoils our lives, doesn't it, 
 Harry? One always has to be worrying." 
 
 The smile whose movements had excited Mina Za- 
 briska's interest made its appearance on Harry's face. 
 He had never been annoyed by his mother's external 
 attitude toward the result of her own doings, but he 
 was often amused at it. 
 
 " Why do you smile? " she asked innocently. 
 
 " Well, worrying's a mild term," he explained eva- 
 sively. " It's my work in the world, you know — or 
 it seems as if it was going to be." 
 
 " You'd better think about it," Lady Tristram con- 
 cluded, not wishing to think about it any more her- 
 self. " You wouldn't tell Mr Iver anything about the 
 difficulty, would you? " " The difficulty " had become 
 her usual way of referring to their secret. 
 
 " Not a word. I'm not called upon to justify my 
 position to Iver." No shadow of doubt softened the 
 clearness of Harry's conviction on this point. 
 
 He rose, filled his pipe again, and began to walk up 
 and down. He was at his old game, counting chances, 
 one by one, every chance, trying to eliminate risks, 
 one by one, every risk, so that at last he might take his 
 ease and say without fear of contradiction, " Here sits 
 Tristram of Blent." To be thus was — something; 
 but to be safely thus was so much more that it did 
 not seem to him a great thing to carry out the plan 
 which he had suggested to Lady Tristram. To be 
 sure, he was not in love with anybody else, which 
 makes a difference, though it is doubtful whether it 
 would have made any to him. Had the question 
 arisen at that moment he would have said that noth- 
 ing could make any difference. 
 
 [30]
 
 On Guard 
 
 " Did you go up to the Lodge, Harry? " his mother 
 called to him as one of his turns brought him near her. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I forgot to tell you. I did, and I found 
 Madame Zabriska having a look at us from the ter- 
 race; so I had a Httle talk with her. I didn't see the 
 uncle." 
 
 " What's she like ? " This was a favorite question 
 of Lady Tristram's. 
 
 Harry paused a moment, looking for a description. 
 
 " Well, if you can imagine one needle with two very 
 large eyes, you'd get some idea of her. She's sharp, 
 mother — mind and body. Pleasant enough though. 
 She's coming to see you, so you needn't bother to go 
 up," He added with an air of impatience, " She's been 
 hunting in the Peerage." 
 
 " Of course she would ; there's nothing in that." 
 
 " No, I suppose not," he admitted almost reluc- 
 tantly. 
 
 " I can't help thinking I've heard the name before 
 — not Zabriska, but the uncle's." 
 
 " Duplay, isn't it? I never heard it." 
 
 " Well, I can't remember anything about it, but it 
 sounds familiar. I'm confusing it with something else, 
 I suppose. They look like being endurable, do 
 they?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, as people go," he answered, resuming his 
 walk. 
 
 If a determination to keep for yourself what accord- 
 ing to your own conviction belongs by law to another 
 makes a criminal intent — and that irrespective of the 
 merits of the law — it would be hard to avoid classing 
 Lady Tristram and her son as criminals in contem- 
 plation, if not yet in action. And so considered they 
 afforded excellent specimens of two kinds of criminals 
 which a study of assize courts reveals — the criminal 
 who drifts and the criminal who plans ; the former 
 
 [31]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 usually termed by counsel and judge " unhappy," the 
 latter more sternly dubbed " dangerous." Lady Tris- 
 tram had always drifted and was drifting still ; Harry 
 had begun to plan at fifteen and still was busy plan- 
 ning. One result of this difiference was that whereas 
 she was hardly touched or affected in character he 
 had been immensely influenced. In her and to her 
 the whole thing seemed almost accidental, a worry, as 
 she put it, and not much more ; with him it was the 
 governing fact in life, and had been the force most 
 potent in moulding him. The trouble came into her 
 head when something from outside put it there ; it 
 never left his brain. And she had no adequate concep- 
 tion of what it was to him. Even his scheme of marry- 
 ing Janie Ivcr and his vivid little phrase about livmg 
 with the check by him failed to bring it home to her. 
 This very evening, as soon as he was out of sight, both 
 he and his great question were out of the mind of 
 the woman who had brought both him and it into ex- 
 istence. There are people who carry the doctrine of 
 free-will so far in their own persons as to take the 
 liberty of declining to allow causes to work on and 
 in them, what are logically, morally, and on every 
 other ground conceivable, their necessary effects ; 
 reasoning from what they have done to what they 
 must be, from what they have been responsible for to 
 what they must feel, breaks down ; they are arbitra- 
 ry, unconditioned, themselves as it were accidental. 
 With this comes a sort of innocence, sometimes attrac- 
 tive, sometimes uncommonly exasperating to the nor- 
 mal man. 
 
 So Lady Tristram went back to her novel, and 
 Harry walked by the river, moodily meditating and 
 busily scheming. Meanwhile Mina Zabriska had 
 flown to the library at Merrion Lodge, and, finding 
 books that had belonged to a legal member of the 
 
 [32]
 
 On Guard 
 
 family in days gone by, was engaged in studying the 
 law relating to the succession to lands and titles in 
 England. She did not make quick progress. Never- 
 theless in a day or two she had reached a point when 
 she was bubbling over with curiosity and excitement ; 
 she felt that she could not go on sitting opposite 
 Major Duplay at meals without giving him at least 
 a hint or two of the wonderful state of things on 
 which she had hit, and without asking him to con- 
 sider the facts and to have a look at the books which 
 were so puzzling and exercising her brain. Yet Harry 
 Tristram, wary sentinel as he was, did not dream of 
 any attack or scent any danger from the needle with 
 two very large eyes, as he had called the lady at Mer- 
 rion Lodge. 
 
 [33]
 
 IV 
 
 She Could an' She Would 
 
 IN spite of Mrs Iver's secret opinion that people 
 with strange names were Hkely to be strange 
 themselves, and that, for all she saw, foreigners 
 were — not fools, as Dr Johnson's friend thought — but 
 generally knaves, an acquaintance was soon made be- 
 tween Fairholme and Merrion Lodge. Her family 
 was against Mrs Iver ; her husband was boundlessly 
 hospitable, Janie was very sociable. The friendship 
 grew and prospered. Mr Iver began to teach the 
 Major to play golf. Janie took Alina Zabriska out 
 driving in the highest dog-cart on the countryside : 
 they would go along the road by the river, and get 
 out perhaps for a wander by the Pool, or even drive 
 higher up the valley and demand tea from Bob Broad- 
 ley at his pleasant little place — half farm, half manor- 
 house — at Mingham, three miles above the Pool. 
 Matters moved so quick that Mina understood in a 
 week why Janie found it pleasant to have a compan- 
 ion under whose aegis she could drop in at Mingham ; 
 in little more than a fortnight she began to under- 
 stand why her youthful uncle (the Major was very 
 young now) grunted unsympathetically when she ob- 
 served that the road to Mingham was the prettiest 
 in the neighborhood. The Imp was accumulating 
 other people's secrets, and was accordingly in a state 
 of high satisfaction. 
 
 The situation developed fast, and for the time at 
 least Janie Iver was heroine and held the centre of 
 the stage. A chance of that state of comfort which 
 
 [34]
 
 She Could an* She Would 
 
 was his remaining and modest ambition had opened 
 before the Major — and the possibiUty of sharing it 
 with a congenial partner : the Major wasted no time 
 in starting his campaign. Overtures from Blent, more 
 stately but none the less prompt, showed that Harry 
 Tristram had not spoken idly to his mother. And 
 what about Bob Broadley? He seemed to be out of 
 the running, and indeed to have little inclination, or 
 not enough courage, to press forward. Yet the drives 
 to Mingham went on. Mina was puzzled. She began 
 to observe the currents in the Fairholme household. 
 Iver was for Harry, she thought, though he main- 
 tained a dignified show of indifference ; Mrs Iver — 
 the miraculous occurring in a fortnight, as it often 
 does — was at least very much taken with the Major. 
 Bob Broadley had no friend, unless in Janie herself. 
 And Janie was inscrutable by virtue of an open pleas- 
 ure in the attention of all three gentlemen and an 
 obvious disinclination to devote herself exclusively 
 to any one of them. She could not flirt with Harry 
 Tristram, because he had no knowledge of the art, 
 but she accepted his significant civilities. She did flirt 
 with the Major, who had many years' experience of 
 the pastime. And she was kind to Bob Broadley, 
 going to see him, as has been said, sending him invi- 
 tations, and seeming in some way to be fighting 
 against his own readiness to give up the battle before 
 it was well begun. But it is hard to help a man who 
 will not help himself ; on the other hand, it is said to 
 be amusing sometimes. 
 
 They all met at Fairholme one afternoon, Harry 
 appearing unexpectedly as the rest w^ere at tea on the 
 lawn. This was his first meeting with the Major. As 
 he greeted that gentleman, even more when he shook 
 hands with Bob, there was a touch of regality in his 
 manner ; the reserve was prominent, and his preroga- 
 
 [35]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 tive was claimed. Very soon he carried Janie off for 
 a solitary walk in the shrubberies. Mina enjoyed her 
 uncle's frown and chafed at Bob's self-effacement; he 
 had been talking to Janie when Harry calmly took her 
 away. The pair were gone half an hour, and conver- 
 sation flagged. They reappeared, Janie looking 
 rather excited, Harry almost insolently calm, and sat 
 down side by side. The Major walked across and took 
 a vacant seat on the other side of Janie. The slightest 
 look of surprise showed on Harry Tristram's face. A 
 duel began. Duplay had readiness, suavity, volubil- 
 ity, a trick of flattering deference ; on Harry's side 
 were a stronger suggestion of power and an assump- 
 tion, rather attractive, that he must be listened to. 
 Janie liked this air of his, even while she resented it ; 
 here, in his own county at least, a Tristram of Blent 
 was somebody. Bob Broadley was listening to Tver's 
 views on local affairs; he was not in the fight at all, 
 but he was covertly watching it. Perhaps Iver 
 watched too, but it was not easy to penetrate the 
 thoughts of that astute man of business. The for- 
 tune of battle seemed to incline to Harry's side; the 
 Major was left out of the talk for minutes together. 
 More for fun than from any loyalty to her kinsman, 
 Mina rose and walked over to Harry. 
 
 " Do take me to see the greenhouses, Mr Tris- 
 tram," she begged. " You're all right with uncle, 
 aren't you, Janie? " 
 
 Janie nodded rather nervously. After a pause of 
 a full half-minute, Harry Tristram rose without a 
 word and began to walk off; it was left for Mina to 
 join him in a hurried little run. 
 
 " Oh, wait for me, anyhow," she cried, with a laugh. 
 
 They walked on some way in silence. 
 
 " You're not very conversational, Mr Tristram. I 
 suppose you're angry with me? " 
 
 [36]
 
 She Could an' She Would 
 
 He turned and looked at her. Presently he began 
 to smile, even more slowly, it seemed, than usual. 
 
 " I must see that my poor uncle has fair play — what 
 do you call it ? — a fair show — mustn't I ? " 
 
 "Oh, that's what you meant, Madame Zabriska? 
 It wasn't the pleasure of my company ? " 
 
 " Do you know, I think you rather exaggerate the 
 pleasure — no, not the pleasure, I mean the honor — • 
 of your company? You were looking as if you 
 couldn't understand how anybody could want to talk 
 to uncle when you were there. But he's better-look- 
 ing than you are, and much more amusing." 
 
 " I don't set up for a beauty or a wit either," Harry 
 observed, not at all put out by the Imp's premeditated 
 candor. 
 
 " No — and still she ought to want to talk to you ! 
 Why? Because you're Mr Tristram, I suppose?" 
 Mina indulged in a very scornful demeanor. 
 
 " It's very friendly of you to resent my behavior 
 on Miss Iver's behalf." 
 
 " There you are again ! That means she doesn't 
 resent it ! I think you give yourself airs, Mr Tris- 
 tram, and I should like " 
 
 "To take me down a peg?" he asked, in a tone 
 of rather contemptuous amusement. 
 
 She paused a minute, and then nodded signifi- 
 cantly. 
 
 " Exactly ; and to make you feel a little uncomfort- 
 able — not quite so sure of yourself and everything 
 about you." Again she waited a minute, her eyes set 
 on his face and watching it keenly. " I wonder if I 
 could," she ended slowly. 
 
 " Upon my word, I don't see how it's to be done." 
 He was openly chaffing her now. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know that you're invulnerable," she 
 said, with a toss of her head. " Don't defy me, Mr 
 
 [37]
 
 Tristram ^' Blent 
 
 Tristram. I don't mind telling you that it would be 
 very good for you if you weren't " 
 
 " Appreciated? " he suggested ironically. 
 
 " No ; I was going to say if you weren't Mr Tris- 
 tram, or the future Lord Tristram of Blent." 
 
 If she had hoped to catch him off his guard, she was 
 mistaken. Not a quiver passed over his face as he 
 remarked : 
 
 " I'm afraid Providence can hardly manage that 
 now, either for my good or for your amusement, 
 Madame Zabriska, much as it might conduce to both." 
 
 The Imp loved fighting, and her blood was getting 
 up. He was a good foe, but he did not know her 
 power. He must not either — not yet, anyhow. If 
 he patronized her much more, she began to feel that 
 he would have to know it some day — not to his hurt, 
 of course ; merely for the reformation of his manners. 
 
 " Meanwhile," he continued, as he lit a cigarette, 
 " I'm not seriously disappointed that attentions paid 
 to one lady fail to please another. That's not uncom- 
 mon, you know. By the way, we're not on the path 
 to the greenhouses ; but you don't mind that ? They 
 were a pretext, no doubt ? Oh, I don't want to hurry 
 back. Your uncle shall have his fair show. How well 
 you're mastering English ! " 
 
 At this moment Mina hated him heartily ; she swore 
 to humble him — before herself, not before the world, 
 of course ; she would give him a fright anyhow — not 
 now, but some day ; if her temper could not stand 
 the strain better, it would be some day soon, though. 
 
 " You see," Harry's calm exasperating voice went 
 on, " it's just possible that you're better placed at 
 present as an observer of our manners than as a critic 
 of them. I hope I don't exceed the limits of candor 
 which you yourself indicated as allowable in this 
 pleasant conversation of ours? " 
 
 [38]
 
 She Could an' She Would 
 
 " Oh well, we shall see," she declared, with another 
 nod. The vague threat (for it seemed that or noth- 
 ing) elicited a low laugh from Harry Tristram. 
 
 " We shall," he said. " And in the meantime a little 
 sparring is amusing enough. I don't confess to a hit 
 at present; do you, Madame Zabriska?" 
 
 Alina did not confess, but she felt the hit all the 
 same ; if she were to fight him, she must bring her 
 reserves into action. 
 
 " By the way, I'm so sorry you couldn't see my 
 mother when you called the other day. She's not 
 at all well, unhappily. She reallv wants to see 
 you." 
 
 " How very kind of Lady Tristram ! " There was 
 kept for the mother a little of the sarcastic humility 
 which was more appropriate when directed against 
 the son. Harry smiled still as he turned round and be- 
 gan to escort her back to the lawn. The smile an- 
 noyed Mina ; it was a smile of victory. Well, the vic- 
 tory should not be altogether his. 
 
 " I want to see Lady Tristram very much," she 
 went on, in innocent tones and with a face devoid of 
 malice, " because I can't help thinking I must have 
 seen her before — when I was quite a little girl." 
 
 "You've seen my mother before? When and 
 where? " 
 
 " She was Mrs Fitzhubert, wasn't she ? " 
 
 " Yes, of course she was — before she came into the 
 title." 
 
 " Well, a Mrs Fitzhubert used to come and see my 
 mother long ago at Heidelberg. Do you know if your 
 mother was ever at Heidelberg? " 
 
 " I fancy she was — Fm not sure." 
 
 Still the Imp was very innocent, although the form 
 of Harry's reply caused her inward amusement and 
 triumph. 
 
 [39]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " My mother was Madame de Kries. Ask Lady 
 Tristram if she remembers the name." 
 
 It was a hit for her at last, though Harry took it 
 well. He turned quickly toward her, opened his lips 
 to speak, repented, and did no more than give her a 
 rather long and rather intense look. Ther« he nodded 
 carelessly. " All right, I'll ask her," said he. The 
 next moment he put a question. " Did you know 
 about having met her before you came to Merrion?" 
 
 " Oh well, I looked in the ' Peerage,' but it really 
 didn't strike me till a day or two ago that it might 
 be the same Mrs Fitzhubert. The name's pretty com- 
 mon, isn't it ? " 
 
 " No, it's very uncommon." 
 
 " Oh, I didn't know," murmured Mina apologeti- 
 cally; but the glance which followed him as he 
 turned away was not apologetic ; it was triumphant. 
 
 She got back in time to witness — to her regret (let 
 it be confessed) she could not overhear — Janie's fare- 
 well to Bob Broadley. They had been friends from 
 youth ; he was " Bob " to her, she was now to him 
 " Miss Janie." 
 
 " You haven't said a word to me, Bob." 
 
 " I haven't had a chance ; you're always with the 
 swells now." 
 
 " How can I help it, if — if nobody else comes ? " 
 
 " I really shouldn't have the cheek. Harry Tris- 
 tram was savage enough with the Major — what 
 would he have been with me ? " 
 
 " Why should it matter what he was ? " 
 
 "Do you really think that. Miss Janie?" Bob 
 was almost at the point of an advance. 
 
 " I mean — why should it matter to you ? " 
 
 The explanation checked the advance. 
 
 " Oh, I — I see. I don't know, I'm sure. Well then, 
 I don't know how to deal with him." 
 
 [40]
 
 She Could an' She Would 
 
 " Well, good-by." 
 
 " Good-by, Miss Janie." 
 
 " Are you coming to see us again, ever? " 
 
 " If you ask me, I " 
 
 " And am I coming again to Mingham ? Although 
 you don't ask me." 
 
 "Will you really?" 
 
 " Oh, you do ask me ? When I ask you to ask me ! " 
 
 " Any day you'll " 
 
 " No, I'll surprise you. Good-by. Good-by really." 
 
 The conversation, it must be admitted, sounds 
 commonplace when verbally recorded. Yet he would 
 be a despondent man who considered it altogether 
 discouraging; Mina did not think Janie's glances 
 discouraging either. But Bob Broadley, a literal 
 man, found no warrant for fresh hope in any of the 
 not very significant words which he repeated to him- 
 self as he rode home up the valley of the Blent. He 
 suffered under modesty ; it needed more than coquetry 
 to convince him that he exercised any attraction over 
 the rich and brilliant (brilliance also is a matter of 
 comparison) Miss Iver, on w^hose favor Mr Tristram 
 waited and at whose side Major Duplay danced at- 
 tendance. 
 
 " You're a dreadful flirt, Janie," said Mina, as she 
 kissed her friend. 
 
 Janie was not a raw girl ; she was a capable young 
 woman of two-and-twenty. 
 
 " Nonsense," she said rather crossly. " It's not 
 flirting to take time to make up your mind." 
 
 " It looks like it, though." 
 
 " And I've no reason to suppose they've any one 
 of them made up their minds." 
 
 " I should think you could do that for them pretty 
 soon. Besides, uncle has, anyhow." 
 
 " I'm to be your aunt, am I?" 
 
 [41]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 " Oh, he's only an uncle by accident." 
 
 " Yes, I think that's true. Shall we have a drive 
 soon ? " 
 
 " To Aiingham? Or to Blent Hall? " 
 
 " Not Blent. I wait my lord's pleasure to see me." 
 
 •' Yes, that's just how I feel about him," cried Mina 
 eagerly. 
 
 " But all the same " 
 
 " No, I won't hear a word of good about him. I 
 hate him ! " 
 
 Janie smiled in an indulgent but rather troubled 
 way. Her problem was serious ; she could not afford 
 the Imp's pettish treatment of the world and the 
 people in it. Janie had responsibilities — banks and 
 buildings full of them — and a heart to please into the 
 bargain. Singularly complicated questions are rather 
 cruelly put before young women, who must solve 
 them on peril of It would sound like exaggera- 
 tion to say what. 
 
 There was Mrs Iver to be said good-by to — 
 plump, peaceful, proper Mrs Iver, whom nothing had 
 great power to stir save an unkindness and an un- 
 conventionality ; before either of these she bristled 
 surprisingly. 
 
 " I hope you've all enjoyed this lovely afternoon," 
 she said to Mina. 
 
 " Oh, yes, we have, Mrs Iver — not quite equally 
 perhaps, but still " 
 
 Mrs Iver sighed and kissed her. 
 
 " Men are always the difficulty, aren't they?" said 
 the Imp. 
 
 " Poor child, and you've lost yours ! " 
 
 " Yes, poor Adolf ! " There was a touch of duty 
 in Mina's sigh. She had been fond of Adolf, but his 
 memory was not a constant presence. The world for 
 the living was Madame Zabriska's view. 
 
 [42]
 
 She Could an* She Would 
 
 " I'm so glad Janie's found a friend in you — and a 
 wise one, I'm sure." 
 
 Mina did her best to look the part thus charitably 
 assigned to her; her glance at Janie was matronly, 
 almost maternal. 
 
 " Not that I know anything about it," Mrs Iver 
 pursued, following a train of thought obvious enough. 
 " I hope she'll act for her happiness, that's all. There's 
 the dear Major looking for you — don't keep him wait- 
 ing, dear. How lucky he's your uncle — he can always 
 be with you." 
 
 " Until he settles and makes a home for himself," 
 smiled Mina irrepressibly ; the rejuvenescence — nay, 
 the unbroken youth — of her relative appeared to her 
 quaintly humorous, and it was her fancy to refer to 
 him as she might to a younger brother. 
 
 There was Mr Iver to be said good-by to. 
 
 " Come again soon — you're always welcome ; you 
 wake us up, Madame Zabriska." 
 
 " You promised to say Mina ! " 
 
 " So I did, but my tongue's out of practice with 
 young ladies' Christian names. Why, I call my wife 
 * Mother ' — only Janie says I mustn't. Yes, come and 
 cheer us up. I shall make the uncle a crack player 
 before long. Mustn't let him get lazy and spend half 
 the day over five o'clock tea, though." 
 
 This was hardly a hint, but it was an indication of 
 the trend of Mr Iver's thoughts. So it was a dan- 
 gerous ball, and that clever little cricketer, the Imp, 
 kept her bat away from it. She laughed ; that com- 
 mitted her to nothing — and left Iver to bowl again. 
 
 " It's quite a change to find Harry Tristram at a 
 tea-party, though ! Making himself pleasant too ! " 
 
 " Not to me," observed Mina decisively. 
 
 " You chaffed him, I expect. He stands a bit on 
 his dignity. Ah well, he's young, you sec." 
 
 [43]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " No, he chaffed me. Oh, I think I — I left off even, 
 you know." 
 
 " They get a bit spoilt." He seemed to be referring 
 to the aristocracy. " But there's plenty of stuff in 
 him, or I'm much mistaken. He's a born fighter, I 
 think." 
 
 " I wonder ! " said Mina, her eyes twinkling again. 
 
 Finally there was the Major to be walked home 
 with — not a youthful triumphant Major, but a rather 
 careworn, undisguisedly irritated one. If Mina 
 wanted somebody to agree with her present mood 
 about Harry Tristram, her longing was abundantly 
 gratified. The Major roundly termed him an over- 
 bearing young cub, and professed a desire — almost an 
 intention — to teach him better manners. This coin- 
 cidence of views was a sore temptation to the Imp; 
 to resist it altogether would seem superhuman. 
 
 " I should like to cut his comb for him," growled 
 Duplay. 
 
 Whatever the metaphor adopted, Mina was in es- 
 sential agreement. She launched on an account of 
 how Harry had treated her: they fanned one another's 
 fires, and the frames burnt merrily. 
 
 Mina's stock of discretion was threatened with com- 
 plete consumption. From open denunciations she 
 turned to mysterious hintings. 
 
 " I could bring him to reason if I liked," she said. 
 
 " What, make him fall in love with you ? " cried 
 Duplay, with a surprise not very complimentary. 
 
 " Oh no," she laughed ; " better than that — by a 
 great deal." 
 
 He eyed her closely : probably this was only another 
 of her whimsical tricks, with which he was very fa- 
 miliar; if he showed too much interest she would 
 laugh at him for being taken in. But she had hinted 
 before to-day's annoyances ; she was hinting again. 
 
 [44]
 
 She Could an' She Would 
 
 He had yawned at her hints till he became Harry 
 Tristram's rival ; he was ready to be eager now, if 
 only he could be sure that they pointed to anything 
 more than folly or delusion. 
 
 " Oh, my dear child," he exclaimed, " you mustn't 
 talk nonsense. We mayn't like him, but what in the 
 world could you do to him? " 
 
 " I don't want to hurt him, but I should like to 
 make him sing small." 
 
 They had just reached the foot of the hill. Duplay 
 waved his arm across the river toward the hall. 
 Blent looked strong and stately. 
 
 " That's a big task, my dear," he said, recovering 
 some of his good-humor at the sight of Mina's wasp- 
 ish little face. " I fancy it'll need a bigger man than 
 you to make Tristram of Blent sing small." He 
 laughed at her indulgently. " Or than me either, I'm 
 afraid," he added, with a ruefulness that was not ill- 
 tempered. " We must fight him in fair fight, that's 
 all." 
 
 " He doesn't fight fair," she cried angrily. The 
 next instant she broke into her most malicious smile. 
 " Tristram of Blent ! " she repeated. " Oh well " 
 
 " Mina, dear, do you know you rather bore me? 
 If you mean anything at all " 
 
 " I may mean what I like without telling you, I 
 suppose ? " 
 
 " Certainly — but don't ask me to listen." 
 
 " You think it's all nonsense? " 
 
 " I do, my dear," confessed the Major. 
 
 How far he spoke sincerely he himself could hardly 
 tell. Perhaps he had an alternative in his mind : if 
 she meant nothing, she would hold her peace and cease 
 to weary him ; if she meant anything real, his chal- 
 lenge would bring it out. But for the moment she had 
 fallen into thouglit. 
 
 '&" 
 
 [45]
 
 Tristram ^Blent 
 
 " No, he doesn't fight fair," she repeated, as though 
 to herself. She glanced at her uncle in a hesitating, 
 undecided way. " And he's abominably rude," she 
 went on, with a sudden return of pettishness. 
 
 The Major's shrug expressed an utter exhaustion 
 of patience, a scornful irritation, almost a contempt for 
 her. She could not endure it; she must justify her- 
 self, revenge herself at a blow on Harry for his rude- 
 ness and on her uncle for his scepticism. The triumph 
 would be sweet ; she could not for the moment think 
 of any seriousness in what she did. She could not 
 keep her victory to herself; somebody else now must 
 look on at Harry's humiliation, at least must see that 
 she had power to bring it about. With the height of 
 malicious exultation she looked up at Duplay and said : 
 
 " Suppose he wasn't Tristram of Blent at all ? " 
 
 Duplay stopped short where he stood — on the slope 
 of the hill above Blent itself. 
 
 " What? Is this more nonsense? " 
 
 " No, it isn't nonsense." 
 
 He looked at her steadily, almost severely. Under 
 his regard her smile disappeared ; she grew uncom- 
 fortable. 
 
 " Then I must know more about it. Come, Mina, 
 this is no trifle, you know." 
 
 " I shan't tell you any more," she flashed out, in a 
 last effort of petulance. 
 
 " You must," he said calmly. " All you know, all 
 you think. Come, we'll have it out now at once." 
 
 She followed like a naughty child. She could have 
 bitten her tongue out, as the old phrase goes. Her 
 feelings went round Hke a weather-cock ; she was 
 ashamed of herself, sorry for Harry — yes, and afraid 
 of Harry. And she was afraid of Duplay too. She 
 had run herself into something serious — that she saw ; 
 something serious in which two resolute men were 
 
 [46]
 
 She Could an' She Would 
 
 involved. She did not know where it would end. But 
 now she could not resist. The youthful uncle seemed 
 youthful no more ; he was old, strong, authoritative. 
 He made her follow him, and he bade her speak. 
 
 She followed, like the naughty child she now seemed 
 even to herself; and presently, in the library, beside 
 those wretched books of hers, her old law-books and 
 her Peerages, reluctantly, stumblingly, sullenly, still 
 like the naughty child who would revolt but dare not, 
 she spoke. And when at last he let her go with her 
 secret told, she ran up to her own room and threw 
 herself on the bed, sobbing. She had let herself in 
 for something dreadful. It was all her own fault — and 
 she was very sorry. 
 
 Those were her two main conclusions. 
 
 Her whole behavior was probably just what the 
 gentleman to whom she owed her nickname would 
 have expected and prophesied. 
 
 [47]
 
 V 
 
 The First Round 
 
 WITHIN the last few days there were ominous 
 rumors afloat as to Lady Tristram's health. 
 It was known that she could see nobody and 
 kept her room ; it was reported that the doctors (a 
 specialist had been down from town) were looking 
 very grave ; it was agreed that her constitution had 
 not the strength to support a prolonged strain. There 
 was sympathy — the neighborhood was proud in its 
 way of Lady Tristram — and there was the usual in- 
 terest to which the prospect of a death and a succes- 
 sion gives rise. They canvassed Harry's probable 
 merits and demerits, asking how he would fill the va- 
 cant throne, and, more particularly, whether he would 
 be likely to entertain freely. Lavish hospitality at 
 Blent would mean much to their neighborhood, and if 
 it were indeed the case (as was now prophesied in whis- 
 pers) that Miss Iver of Fairholme was to be mistress 
 at the Hall, there would be nothing to prevent the 
 hospitaUties from being as splendid as the mind of 
 woman could conceive. There were spinster ladies in 
 small villas at Blentmouth who watched the illness 
 and the courtship as keenly as though they were to 
 succeed the sick Lady Tristram and to marry the new 
 Lord. Yet a single garden-party in the year would 
 represent pretty accurately their personal stake in the 
 matter. If you live on crumbs, a good big crumb is 
 not to be despised. 
 
 Harry Tristram was sorry that his mother must die 
 and that he must lose her ; the confederates had be- 
 
 [48]
 
 The First Round 
 
 come close friends, and nobody who knew her inti- 
 mately could help feeling that his life and even the 
 world would be poorer by the loss of a real, if not 
 striking, individuality. But neither he nor she thought 
 of her death as the' main thing ; it no more than ush- 
 ered in the great event for which they had spent years 
 preparing. And he was downright glad that she could 
 see no visitors; that fact saved him added anxieties, 
 and spared her the need of being told about Mina 
 Zabriska and warned to bear herself warily toward 
 the daughter of Madame de Kries. Harry did not 
 ask his mother whether she remembered the name — 
 the question was unnecessary ; nor did he tell his 
 mother that one who had borne the name was at 
 Alerrion Lodge. He waited, vaguely expecting that 
 trouble would come from Merrion, but entirely con- 
 fident in his ability to fight, and worst, the tricky little 
 woman whom he had not feared to snub ; and in his 
 heart he thought well of her, and believed she had as 
 little inclination to hurt him as she seemed to have 
 power. His only active step was to pursue his atten- 
 tions to Janie Iver. 
 
 Yet he was not happy about his attentions. He 
 meant to marry the girl, and thought she would marry 
 him. He did not believe that she was inclined to fall in 
 love with him. He had no right to expect it, since 
 he was not falling in love with her. But it hurt that 
 terrible pride of his ; he was in a way disgusted with 
 the part he had chosen, and humiliated to think that 
 he might not be accepted for himself. A refusal would 
 have hurt him incalculably ; such an assent as he 
 counted upon would wound him somewhat too. He 
 had keen eyes, and he had formed his own opinion 
 about Bob Broadley. None the less, he held straight 
 on his course ; and the spinster ladies were a little 
 shocked to observe that Lady Tristram's illness did 
 
 [49]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 not interfere at all with her son's courtship ; people in 
 that position of life were certainly curious. 
 
 A new vexation had come upon him, the work of 
 his pet aversions, the Gainsboroughs. He had seen 
 Mr Gainsborough once, and retained a picture of a 
 small ineffectual man with a ragged tawny-brown 
 beard and a big soft felt hat, who had an air of being 
 very timid, rather pressed for money, and endowed 
 with a kind heart. Now, it seemed, Mr Gainsborough 
 was again overflowing with family alifection (a dispo- 
 sition not always welcomed by its objects), and wanted 
 to shake poor Lady Tristram's hand, and wanted poor 
 Lady Tristram to kiss his daughter — wanted, in fact, 
 a thorough-going burying of hatchets and a touching 
 reconciliation. With that justice of judgment of which 
 neither youth nor prejudice quite deprived him, Harry 
 Hked the letter; but he was certain that the writer 
 would be immensely tiresome. And again — in the end 
 as in the beginning — he did not want the Gainsbor- 
 oughs at Blent ; above all not just at the time when 
 Blent was about to pass into his hands. It looked, 
 however, as though it would be extremely difficult to 
 keep them away. Mr Gainsborough was obviously a 
 man who would not waste his chance of a funeral ; he 
 might be fenced with till then, but it would need star- 
 tling measures to keep him from a funeral. 
 
 " I hate hearsey people," grumbled Harry, as he 
 threw the letter down. But the Gainsboroughs were 
 soon to be driven out of his head by something more 
 immediate and threatening. 
 
 Blent Pool is a round basin, some fifty or sixty feet 
 in diameter ; the banks are steep and the depth great : 
 on the Blent Hall side there is no approach to it, 
 except through a thick wood overhanging the water ; 
 on the other side the road up the valley runs close 
 by, leaving a few yards of turf between itself and the 
 
 [50]
 
 The First Round 
 
 brink. The scene is gloomy except in sunshine, and 
 the place little frequented. It was a favorite haunt 
 of Harry Tristram's, and he lay on the grass one 
 evening, smoking and looking down on the black 
 water; for the clouds were heavy above and rain 
 threatened. His own mood was in harmony, gloomy 
 and dark, in rebellion against the burden he carried, 
 yet with no thought of laying it down. He did not 
 notice a man who came up the road and took his 
 stand just behind him, w-aiting there for a moment 
 in silence and apparent irresolution. 
 
 " Mr Tristram." 
 
 Harry turned his head and saw Major Duplay ; the 
 Major was grave, almost solemn, as he raised his hat 
 a trifle in formal salute. 
 
 " Do I interrupt you ? " 
 
 " You couldn't have found a man more at leisure." 
 Harry did not rise, but gathered his knees up, clasp- 
 ing his hands round them and looking up in Duplay 's 
 face. " You want to speak to me ? " 
 
 " Yes, on a difficult matter." A visible embarrass- 
 ment hung about the Major ; he seemed to have little 
 liking for his task. " I'm aware," he went on, " that 
 I may lay myself open to some misunderstanding in 
 what I'm about to say. I shall beg you to remember 
 that I am in a difficult position, and that I am a gen- 
 tleman and a soldier." 
 
 Harry said nothing; he waited with unmoved face 
 and no sign of perturbation. 
 
 " It's best to be plain," Duplay proceeded. " It's 
 best to be open with you. I have taken the liberty of 
 following you here for that purpose." He came a step 
 nearer, and stood over Harry. " Certain facts have 
 come to my knowledge which concern you very in- 
 timately." 
 
 [51]
 
 Tristram (?/' Blent 
 
 A polite curiosity and a slight scepticism were ex- 
 pressed in Harry's " Indeed! " 
 
 "And not only you, or — I need hardly say — I 
 shouldn't feel it necessary to occupy myself with the 
 matter. A word about my own position you will per- 
 haps forgive." 
 
 Harry frowned a little ; certainly Duplay was in- 
 clined to prolixity ; he seemed to be rolling the situa- 
 tion round his tongue and making the most of its 
 flavor. 
 
 " Since we came here we have made many acquaint- 
 ances, your own among the number; we are in a 
 sense your guests." 
 
 " Not in a sense that puts you under any obliga- 
 tion," observed Harry. 
 
 " I'm sincerely glad to hear you say that ; it relieves 
 my position to some extent. But we have made friends 
 too. In one house I myself (I may leave my niece 
 out of the question) have been received with a hearty, 
 cordial, warm friendship that seems already an old 
 friendship. Now that does put me under an obliga- 
 tion, Mr Tristram." 
 
 " You refer to our friends the Ivers ? Yes ? " 
 
 " In my view, under a heavy obligation. I am, I 
 say, in my judgment bound to serve them in all ways 
 in my power, and to deal with them as I should wish 
 and expect them to deal with me in a similar case." 
 
 Harry nodded a careless assent, and turned his eyes 
 away toward the Pool ; even already he seemed to 
 know what was coming, or something of it. 
 
 " Facts have come to my knowledge of which it 
 might be — indeed I must say of which it is — of vital 
 importance that Mr Iver should be informed." 
 
 " I thought the facts concerned me?" asked Harry, 
 with brows a little raised. 
 
 " Yes, and as matters now stand they concern him 
 
 [52]
 
 The First Round 
 
 too for that very reason." Duplay had gathered con- 
 fidence; his tone was calm and assured as he came 
 step by step near his mark, as he estabUshed position 
 after position in his attack. 
 
 " You are paying attentions to Miss Iver — with a 
 view to marriage, I presume? " 
 
 Harry made no sign. Duplay proceeded, slowly 
 and with careful deliberation. 
 
 " Those attentions are offered and received as from 
 Mr Tristram — as from the future Lord Tristram of 
 Blent. I can't believe that you're ignorant of what 
 I'm about to say. If you are, I must beg forgiveness 
 for the pain I shall inflict on you. You, sir, are not 
 the future Lord Tristram of Blent." 
 
 A silence followed: a slight drizzle had begun to 
 fall, speckling the waters of the Pool; neither man 
 heeded it. 
 
 " It would be impertinent in me," the Major re- 
 sumed, " to offer you any sympathy on the score of 
 that misfortune ; believe me, however, that my knowl- 
 edge — my full knowledge — of the circumstances can 
 incline me to nothing but a deep regret. But facts 
 are facts, however hardly they may bear on individ- 
 uals." He paused. " I have asserted what I know. 
 You are entitled to ask me for proofs, Mr Tristram." 
 
 Harry was silent a moment, thinking very hard. 
 Many modes of defence came into his busy brain and 
 were rejected. Should he be tempestuous ? No. 
 Should he be amazed ? Again no. Even on his own 
 theory of the story, Duplay's assertion hardly entitled 
 him to be amazed. 
 
 " As regards my part in this matter," he said at 
 last, " I have only this to say. The circumstances of 
 my birth — with which I am, as you rightly suppose, 
 quite familiar — were such as to render the sort of no- 
 tion you have got hold of plausible enough. I don't 
 
 [53]
 
 Tristram (?/' Blent 
 
 want what you call proofs — though you'll want them 
 badly if you mean to pursue your present line. I have 
 my own proofs — perfectly in order, perfectly satisfac- 
 tory. That's all I have to say about my part of the 
 matter. About your part in it I can, I think, be al- 
 most equally brief. Are you merely Mr Iver's friend, 
 or are you also, as you put it, paying attentions to 
 Miss Iver?" 
 
 " That, sir, has nothing to do with it." 
 
 Harry Tristram looked up at him. For the first 
 time he broke into a smile as he studied Duplay's face. 
 " I shouldn't in the least wonder," he said almost 
 chaffingly, " if you believed that to be true. You get 
 hold of a cock-and-bull story about my being illegiti- 
 mate (Oh, I've no objection to plainness either in its 
 proper place !), you come to me and tell me almost in 
 so many words that if I don't give up the lady you'll 
 go to her father and show him your precious proofs. 
 Everybody knows that you're after Miss Iver yourself, 
 and yet you say that it has nothing to do with it! 
 That's the sort of thing a man may manage to believe 
 about himself; it's not the sort of thing that other 
 people believe about him. Major Duplay." He rose 
 slowly to his feet and the men stood face to face on 
 the edge of the Pool. The rain fell more heavily: 
 Duplay turned up his collar, Harry took no notice of 
 the downpour. 
 
 " I'm perfectly satisfied as to the honesty of my own 
 motives," said Duplay. 
 
 " That's not true, and you know it. You may try 
 to shut your eyes, but you can't succeed." 
 
 Duplay was shaken. His enemy put into words 
 what his own conscience had said to him. His posi- 
 tion was hard : he was doing what honestly seemed 
 to him the right thing to do : he could not seem to do 
 it because it was right. He would be wronging the 
 
 [54]
 
 The First Round 
 
 Ivers if he did not do it, yet how ugly it could be made 
 to look ! He was not above suspicion even to him- 
 self, though he clung eagerly to his plea of honesty. 
 
 " You fail to put yourself in my place " he began. 
 
 " Absolutely, I assure you," Harry interrupted, with 
 quiet insolence. 
 
 " And I can't put myself in yours, sir. But I can 
 tell you what I mean to do. It is my most earnest 
 wish to take no steps in this matter at all ; but that 
 rests with you, not with me. At least I desire to take 
 none during Lady Tristram's illness, or during her 
 life should she unhappily not recover." 
 
 " My mother will not recover," said Harry. " It's 
 a matter of a few weeks at most." 
 
 Duplay nodded. " At least wait till then," he urged. 
 " Do nothing more in regard to the matter we have 
 spoken of while your mother lives." He spoke with 
 genuine feeling. Harry Tristram marked it and took 
 account of it. It was a point in the game to him. 
 
 " In turn I'll tell you what I mean to do," he said. 
 " I mean to proceed exactly as if you had never come 
 to Merrion Lodge, had never got your proofs from 
 God knows where, and had never given me the pleas- 
 ure of this very peculiar interview. My mother would 
 ask no consideration from you, and I ask none for 
 her any more than for myself. To be plain for the 
 last time, sir, you're making a fool of yourself at the 
 best, and at the worst a blackguard into the bargain." 
 He paused and broke into a laugh. " Well, then, 
 where are the proofs? Show them me. Or send 
 them down to Blent. Or I'll come up to Merrion. 
 We'll have a look at them — for your sake, not for 
 mine." 
 
 " I may have spoken inexactly, Mr Tristram. I 
 know the facts ; I could get, but have not yet got, 
 the proof of them." 
 
 [55]
 
 Tristram (^/Blent 
 
 " Then don't waste your money, Major Duplay." 
 He waited an instant before he gave a deeper thrust. 
 " Or Iver's — because I don't think your purse is long 
 enough to furnish the resources of war. You'd get 
 the money from him ? I'm beginning to wonder more 
 and more at the views people contrive to take of their 
 own actions." 
 
 Harry had fought his fight well, but now perhaps 
 he went wrong, even as he had gone wrong with Mina 
 Zabriska at Fairholme. He was not content to defeat 
 or repel ; he must triumph, he must taunt. The in- 
 solence of his speech and air drove Duplay to fury. 
 If it told him he was beaten now, it made him deter- 
 mined not to give up the contest ; it made him wish 
 too that he was in a country where duelling was not 
 considered absurd. At any rate he was minded to 
 rebuke Harry. 
 
 " You're a young man " he began. 
 
 " Tell me that when I'm beaten. It may console 
 me," interrupted Harry. 
 
 " You'll be beaten, sir, sooner than you think," said 
 Duplay gravely. " But though you refuse my ofifer, 
 I shall consider Lady Tristram. I will not move while 
 she lives, unless you force me to it." 
 
 "By marrying the heiress you want?" sneered 
 Harry. 
 
 " By carrying out your swindling plans." Duplay's 
 temper began to fail him. " Listen. As soon as your 
 engagement is announced — if it ever is — I go to Mr 
 Iver with what I know. If you abandon the idea of 
 that marriage, you're safe from me. I have no other 
 friends here ; the rest must look after themselves. 
 But you shall not delude my friends with false pre- 
 tences." 
 
 " And I shall not spoil your game with Miss Iver? " 
 
 Duplay's temper quite failed him. He had not 
 
 [56]
 
 The First Round 
 
 meant this to happen ; he had pictured himself cahn, 
 Harry wild and unrestrained — either in fury or in 
 supplication. The young man had himself in hand, 
 firmly in hand ; the elder lost self-control. 
 
 " If you insult me again, sir, I'll throw you in the 
 river ! " 
 
 Harry's slow smile broke across his face. With all 
 his wariness and calculation he measured the Major's 
 figure. The attitude of mind was not heroic ; it was 
 Harry's. Who, having ten thousand men, will go 
 against him that has twenty thousand ? A fool or a 
 hero, Harry would have said, and he claimed neither 
 name. But in the end he reckoned that he was a 
 match for the Major. He smiled more broadly and 
 raised his brows, asking of sky and earth as he glanced 
 round : 
 
 " Since when have blackmailers grown so sensi- 
 tive?" 
 
 In an instant Duplay closed with him in a struggle 
 on which hung not death indeed, but an unpleasant 
 and humiliating ducking. The rain fell on both ; the 
 water waited for one. The Major was taller and 
 heavier; Harry was younger and in better trim. 
 Harry was cooler too. It was rude hugging, noth- 
 ing more ; neither of them had skill or knew more 
 tricks than the common dimly remembered devices of 
 urchinhood. The fight was most unpicturesque, most 
 unheroic ; but it was tolerably grim for all that. The 
 grass grew slippery under the rain and the slithering 
 feet ; luck had its share. And just behind them ran 
 the Queen's highway. They did not think of the 
 Queen's highway. To this pass a determination to be 
 calm, whatever else they were, had brought them. 
 
 The varying wriggles (no more dignified word is 
 appropriate) of the encounter ended in a stern stiff 
 grip which locked the men one to the other, Duplay 
 
 [57]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 facing down the valley, Harry looking up the river. 
 Harry could not see over the Major's shoulder, but 
 he saw past it, and sighted a tall dog-cart driven 
 quickly and rather rashly down the hill. It was rain- 
 ing hard now, and had not looked like rain when the 
 dog-cart started. Hats were being ruined — there was 
 some excuse for risking broken knees to the horse 
 and broken necks to the riders. In the middle of his 
 struggle Harry smiled : he put out his strength too ; 
 and he did not warn his enemy of what he saw; yet 
 he knew very well who was in the dog-cart. Duplay's 
 anger had stirred him to seek a primitive though 
 effective revenge. Harry was hoping to inflict a more 
 subtle punishment. He needed only a bit of luck to 
 help him to it ; he knew how to use the chance when 
 it came — just as well as he knew who was in the dog- 
 cart, as well as he guessed whence the dog-cart came. 
 
 The luck did not fail. Duplay's right foot slipped. 
 In the effort to recover himself he darted out his left 
 over the edge of the bank. Harry impelled him ; the 
 Major loosed his hold and set to work to save himself 
 — none too soon : both his legs were over, his feet 
 touched water, he lay spread-eagled on the bank, half 
 on, half off, in a ludicrous attitude; still he slipped 
 and could not get a hold on the short slimy grass. At 
 that moment the dog-cart was pulled up just behind 
 them. 
 
 "What are you doing?" cried Janie Iver, leaning 
 forward in amazement ; Mina Zabriska sat beside her 
 with wide-open eyes. Harry stooped, caught the 
 Major under the shoulders, and with a great effort 
 hauled him up on the bank, a sad sight, draggled and 
 dirty. Then, as Duplay slowly rose, he turned with 
 a start, as though he noticed the new-comers for the 
 first time. He laughed as he raised his cap. 
 
 " We didn't know we were to have spectators," said 
 
 [58]
 
 The First Round 
 
 he. " And you nearly came in for a tragedy ! He 
 was all but gone. Weren't you, Major ? " 
 
 " What were you doing? " cried Janie again. Mina 
 was silent and still, scrutinizing both men keenly. 
 
 " Why, we had been talking about wrestling, and 
 the Major offered to show me a trick which he bet a 
 shilling would floor me. Only the ground was too 
 slippery ; wasn't it. Major ? And the trick didn't ex- 
 actly come ofif. I wasn't floored, so I must trouble 
 you for a shilling, Major." 
 
 Major Duplay did not look at Janie, still less did 
 he meet his niece's eye. He spent a few seconds in a 
 futile effort to rub the mud ofif his coat with muddy 
 hands ; he glanced a moment at Harry. 
 
 " I must have another try some day," he said, but 
 with no great readiness. 
 
 " Meanwhile — the shilling ! " demanded Harry good- 
 humoredly, a subtle mockery in his eyes alone show- 
 ing the imaginary character of the bet which he 
 claimed to have won. 
 
 In the presence of those two inquisitive young 
 women Major Duplay did not deny the debt. He 
 felt in his pocket, found a shilling, and gave it to 
 Harry Tristram. That young man looked at it, spun 
 it in the air, and pocketed it. 
 
 " Yes, a revenge whenever you like," said he. 
 " And now we'd better get home, because it's begun 
 to rain." 
 
 " Begun to ! It's rained for half-an-hour," said 
 Janie crossly. 
 
 " Has it ? I didn't notice. I was too busy with the 
 Major's trick." 
 
 As he spoke he looked full in Mina Zabriska's face. 
 She bore his glance for a moment, then cried to Janie, 
 " Oh, please drive on ! " The dog-cart started ; the 
 Major, with a stiff touch of his hat, strode along tlic 
 
 [5V]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 road. Harry was left alone by the Pool. His gayety 
 and defiance vanished ; he stood there scowling at the 
 Pool. On the surface the honors of the encounter 
 were indeed his ; the real peril remained, the real bat- 
 tle had still to be fought. It was with heart-felt sin- 
 cerity that he muttered, as he sought for pipe and 
 tobacco : 
 
 " I wish I'd drowned the beggar in the Pool ! " 
 
 [60]
 
 VI 
 
 The Attraction of It 
 
 MR JENKINSON NEELD sat at lunch at 
 the Imperium Club, quite happy with a neck 
 chop, last week's Athcnccum, and a pint of 
 Apollinaris. To him enter disturbers of peace. 
 
 " How are you, Neeld ? " said Lord Southend, tak- 
 ing the chair next him. " Sit down here, Iver. Let 
 me introduce you — Mr Iver — Mr Neeld. Bill of faie, 
 waiter." His lordship smiled rather maliciously at Mr 
 Neeld as he made the introduction, which Iver ac- 
 knowledged with bluff courtesy, Neeld with a timid 
 little bow. " How are things down your way ? " pur- 
 sued Southend, addressing Iver. " Lady Tristram's 
 very ill, I hear? " 
 
 " I'm afraid so." 
 
 " Wonderful woman that, you know. You ought 
 to have seen her in the seventies — when she ran away 
 with Randolph Edge." 
 
 A gentleman, two tables off, looked round. 
 
 " Hush, Southend ! That's his brother," whispered 
 Mr Neeld. 
 
 "Whose brother?" demanded Southend. 
 
 " That's Wilmot Edge— Sir Randolph's brother." 
 
 " Oh, the deuce it is. I thought he'd been pilled." 
 
 Blackballs also were an embarrassing subject ; 
 Neeld sipped his Apollinaris nervously. 
 
 " Well, as I was saying " (Lord Southend spoke a 
 little lower), " she went straight from the Duchess of 
 Slough's ball to the station, as she was, in a low gown 
 
 [6i]
 
 Tristram oJ^ Blent 
 
 and a scarlet opera cloak — met Edge, whose wife had 
 only been dead three months — and went off with him. 
 You know the rest of the story. It was a near run 
 for young Harry Tristram! How is the boy, Iver? " 
 
 " The boy's very much of a man indeed ; we don't 
 talk about the near run before him." 
 
 Southend laughed. " A miss is as good as a mile," 
 he said, "eh, Neeld? I'd like to see Addie Tristram 
 again — though I suppose she's a wreck, poor thing! " 
 
 " Why couldn't she marry the man properly, instead 
 of bolting? " asked Iver. He did not approve of such 
 escapades. 
 
 " Oh, he had to bolt anyhow — a thorough bad lot 
 — debts, you know — her people wouldn't hear of it ; 
 besides she was engaged to Fred Nares — you don't 
 remember Fred? A devilish passionate fellow, with 
 a wart on his nose. So altogether it was easier to 
 cut and run. Besides she liked the sort of thing, don't 
 you know. Romantic and all that. Then Edge van- 
 ished, and the other man appeared. That turned out 
 all right, but she ran it fine. Eh, Neeld? " 
 
 Mr Neeld was sadly flustered by these recurring 
 references to him. He had no desire to pose as an 
 authority on the subject. Josiah Cholderton's diary 
 put him in a dififiiculty. He wished to goodness he had 
 been left to the peaceful delights of literary jour- 
 nalism. 
 
 " Well, if you'll come down to my place, I can 
 promise to show you Harry Tristram ; and you can 
 go over and see his mother if she's better." 
 
 " By Jove, I've half a mind to! Very kind of you, 
 Iver. You've got a fine place, I hear." 
 
 " I've built so many houses for other people that I 
 may be allowed one for myself, mayn't I ? We're 
 proud of- our neighborhood," he pursued, politely ad- 
 dressing himself "to Mr Neeld. "If you're ever that 
 
 [62]
 
 The Attraction of It 
 
 way, I hope you'll look me up. I shall be delighted 
 to welcome a fellow-member of the Imperium." 
 
 A short chuckle escaped from Lord Southend's lips ; 
 he covered it by an exaggerated devotion to his broiled 
 kidneys. Mr Neeld turned pink and murmured inco- 
 herent thanks ; he felt like a traitor. 
 
 " Yes, we see a good deal of young Harry," said 
 Iver, with a smile — " and of other young fellows about 
 the place too. They don't come to see me, though. 
 I expect Janie's the attraction. You remember my 
 girl, Southend ? " 
 
 " Well, I suppose Blent's worth nine or ten thou- 
 sand a year still ? " The progress of Lord Southend's 
 thoughts was obvious. 
 
 " H'm. Seven or eight, I should think, as it's man- 
 aged now. It's a nice place, though, and would go a 
 good bit better in proper hands." 
 
 "Paterfamilias considering?" 
 
 " I don't quite make the young fellow out. He's 
 got a good opinion of himself, I fancy." Iver laughed 
 a little. " Well, we shall see," he ended. 
 
 " Not a bad thing to be Lady Tristram of Blent, 
 you know, Iver. That's none of your pinchbeck. The 
 real thing — though, as I say, young Harry's only got 
 it by the skin of his teeth. Eh, Neeld? " 
 
 Mr Neeld laid down his napkin and pushed back 
 his chair. 
 
 " Sit still, man. We've nearly finished, and we'll all 
 have a cup of cofYee together and a cigar." 
 
 Misfortunes accumulated, for Neeld hated tobacco. 
 But he was anxious to be scrupulously polite to Iver, 
 and thus to deaden the pangs of conscience. Re- 
 signed though miserable, he went with them to the 
 smoking-room. Colonel Wilmot Edge looked up 
 from the Army and Navy Gazette, and glanced curi- 
 ously at the party ^s thev passed his table. Why were 
 
 ^ [63]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 these old fellows reviving old stories? They were bet- 
 ter left at rest. The Colonel groaned as he went back 
 to his newspaper. 
 
 Happily, in the smoking-room the talk shifted to 
 less embarrassing subjects. Iver told of his life and 
 doings, and Neeld found himself drawn to the man: 
 he listened with interest and appreciation ; he seemed 
 brought into touch with life ; he caught himself sigh- 
 ing over the retired inactive nature of his own occu- 
 pations. He forgave Iver the hoardings about the 
 streets ; he could not forgive himself the revenge he 
 had taken for them. Iver and Southend spoke of big 
 schemes in which they had been or were engaged 
 together — legitimate enterprises, good for the nation 
 as well as for themselves. How had he, a useless old 
 fogy, dared to blackball a man like Iver? An occa- 
 sional droll glance from Southend emphasized his 
 compunction. 
 
 " I see you've got a new thing coming out, Neeld," 
 said Southend, after a pause in the talk. " I remem- 
 ber old Cholderton very well. He was a starchy old 
 chap, but he knew his subjects. Makes rather heavy 
 reading, I should think, eh?" 
 
 " Not all of it, not by any means all of it," Neeld 
 assured him. " He doesn't confine himself to business 
 matters." 
 
 " Still, even old Joe Cholderton's recreations " 
 
 " He was certainly mainly an observer, but he saw 
 some interesting things and people." There was a re- 
 newed touch of nervousness in Mr Neeld's manner. 
 
 " Interesting people? H'm. Then I hope he's dis- 
 creet ? " 
 
 " Or that Mr Neeld will be discreet for him," Iver 
 put in. " Though I don't know why interesting peo- 
 ple are supposed to create a need for discretion." 
 
 " Oh yes, you do, Iver. You know the world. 
 
 [64]
 
 The Attraction of It 
 
 Don't you be too discreet, Neeld. Give us a taste of 
 Joe's lighter style." 
 
 Neeld did not quite approve of his deceased and 
 respected friend being referred to as " Joe," nor did 
 he desire to discuss in that company what he had and 
 what he had not suppressed in the Journal. 
 
 " I have used the best of my judgment," he said 
 primly, and was surprised to find Iver smiling at him 
 with an amused approval. 
 
 " The least likely men break out," Lord Southend 
 continued hopefully. " The Baptist minister down at 
 my place once waylaid the wife of the Chairman of 
 Quarter Sessions and asked her to run away with 
 him." 
 
 " That's one of your Nonconformist stories, South- 
 end. I never believe them," said Iver. 
 
 " Oh, I'm not saying anything. She was a pretty 
 woman. I just gave it as an illustration. I happen to 
 know it's true, because she told me herself." 
 
 " Ah, I'd begin to listen if he'd told you," was Iver's 
 cautious comment. 
 
 " You give us the whole of old Joe Cholderton ! " 
 was Lord Southend's final injunction. 
 
 " Imagine if I did ! " thought Neeld, beginning to 
 feel some of the joy of holding a secret. 
 
 Presently Southend took his leave, saying he had 
 an engagement. To his own surprise Neeld did not 
 feel this to be an unwarrantable proceeding; he sat 
 on with Iver, and found himself cunningly encourag- 
 ing his companion to talk again about the Tristrams. 
 The story in the Journal had not lost its interest for 
 him ; he had read it over more than once again ; it was 
 strange to be brought into contact, even at second- 
 hand, with the people whose lives and fortunes it 
 concerned. It w^as evident that Iver, on his side, had 
 for some reason been thinking of the Tristrams too, 
 
 [65]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 and he responded readily to Neeld's veiled invitation. 
 He described Blent for him ; he told him how Lady 
 Tristram had looked, and that her illness was sup- 
 posed to be fatal ; he talked again of Harry Tristram, 
 her destined successor. But he said no more of his 
 daughter. Neeld was left without any clear idea that 
 his companion's concern with the Tristrams was more 
 than that of a neighbor or beyond what an ancient 
 family with odd episodes in its history might naturally 
 inspire. 
 
 " Oh, you must come to Blentmouth, Mr Neeld, 
 you must indeed. For a few days, now? Choose 
 your time, only let it be soon. Why, if you made 
 your way into the library at Blent, you might happen 
 on a find there ! A lot of interesting stuff there, I'm 
 told. And we shall be very grateful for a visit." 
 
 Neeld was conscious of a strong desire to go to 
 Blentmouth. But it would be a wrong thing to do ; 
 he felt that he could not fairly accept Iver's hospitality. 
 And he felt, moreover, that he had much better not 
 get himself mixed up wath the Tristrams of Blent. 
 No man is bound to act on hearsay evidence, espe- 
 cially when that evidence has been acquired through 
 a confidential channel. But if he came to know the 
 Tristrams, to know Harry Tristram, his position would 
 certainly be peculiar. Well, that was in the end why 
 he wanted to do it. 
 
 Iver rose and held out his hand. " I must go," 
 he said. " Fairholme, Blentmouth ! I hope I shall 
 have a letter from you soon, to tell us to look out for 
 you." 
 
 One of the unexpected likings that occur between 
 people had happened. Each man felt it and recog- 
 nized it in the other. They were alone in the room 
 for the moment. 
 
 " Mr Iver," said Neeld, in his precise prim tones, 
 
 [66]
 
 The Attraction of It 
 
 " I must make a confession to you. When you were 
 up for this club I — my vote was not in your favor." 
 
 During a minute's silence Iver looked at him with 
 amusement and almost with affection. 
 
 " I'm glad you've told me that." 
 
 " Well, I'm glad I have too." Neeld's laugh was 
 nervous. 
 
 " Because it shows that you're thinking of coming 
 to Blentmouth." 
 
 " Well — yes, I am," answered Neeld, smiling. And 
 they shook hands. Here was the beginning of a 
 friendship ; here, also, Neeld's entry on the scene 
 where Harry Tristram's fortunes formed the subject 
 of the play. 
 
 It was now a foregone conclusion that Mr Neeld 
 would fall before temptation and come to Blentmouth. 
 There had been little doubt about it all along; his 
 confession to Iver removed the last real obstacle. The 
 story in Josiah Cholderton's Journal had him in its 
 grip ; on the first occasion of trial his resolution not 
 to be mixed up with the Tristrams melted away. Per- 
 haps he consoled himself by saying that he would be, 
 like his deceased and respected friend, mainly an ob- 
 server. The Imp, it may be remembered, had gone 
 to Merrion Lodge with exactly the same idea ; it has 
 been seen how it fared with her. 
 
 By the Blent the drama seemed very considerately 
 to be waiting for him. It says much for Major Du- 
 play that his utter and humiliating defeat by the Pool 
 liad not driven him into any hasty action or shaken 
 him in his original purpose. He was abiding by the 
 ofifer which he had made, although the offer had been 
 scornfully rejected. If he could by any means avoid 
 it, he was determined not to move while Lady Tris- 
 tram lived. Harry might force him to act sooner ; 
 that rested with Harry, not with him. Meanwhile he 
 
 [67]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 declined to explain even to Mina what had occurred 
 by the Pool, and treated her open incredulity as to 
 Harry's explanation with silence or a snub. The 
 Major was not happy at this time ; yet his unhappi- 
 ness was nothing to the deep woe, and indeed terror, 
 which had settled on Mina Zabriska. She had guessed 
 enough to see that, for the moment at least, Harry 
 had succeeded in handling Duplay so roughly as to 
 delay, if not to thwart, his operations ; what would he 
 not do to her, whom he must know to be the original 
 cause of the trouble? She used to stand on the ter- 
 race at Merrion and wonder about this ; and she dared 
 not go to Fairholme lest she should encounter Harry. 
 She made many good resolutions for the future, but 
 there was no comfort in the present days. 
 
 The resolutions went for nothing, even in the mo- 
 ment in which they were made. She had suffered for 
 meddling; that was bad: it was worse to the Imp 
 not to meddle ; inactivity was the one thing unen- 
 durable. 
 
 She too, like old Mr Neeld in London town, was 
 drawn by the interest of th-e position, by the need of 
 seeing how Harry Tristram fought his fight. For four 
 days she resisted ; on the evening of the fifth, after 
 dinner, while the Major dozed, she came out on the 
 terrace in a cloak and looked down the hill. It was 
 rather dark, and Blent Hall loomed dimly in the val- 
 ley below. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her 
 head, and began to descend the hill : she had no 
 special purpose ; she wanted a nearer look at Blent, 
 and it was a fine night for a stroll. She came to the 
 road, crossed it after a momentary hesitation, and 
 stood by the gate of the little foot-bridge, which, in 
 the days before enmity arose, Harry Tristram had told 
 her was never locked. It was not now. Mina ad- 
 vanced to the middle of the bridge and leant on the 
 
 [68]
 
 The Attraction of It 
 
 parapet, her eyes set on Blent Hall. There were lights 
 in the lower windows ; one window on the upper floor 
 was lighted too. There, doubtless, Lady Tristram lay 
 slowly dying; somewhere else in the house Harry 
 was keeping his guard and perfecting his defences. 
 The absolute peace and rest of the outward view, the 
 sleepless vigilance and unceasing battle within, a bat- 
 tle that death made keener and could not lull to rest 
 — this contrast came upon Mina with a strange pain- 
 fulness ; her eyes filled with tears as she stood 
 looking. 
 
 A man came out into the garden and lit a cigar; 
 she knew it was Harry ; she did not move. He saun- 
 tered toward the bridge ; she held her ground ; 
 though he should strike her, she would have speech 
 with him to-night. He was by the bridge and had 
 his hand on the gate at the Blent end of it before he 
 saw her. He stood still a moment, then came to her 
 side, and leant as she was leaning over the parapet. 
 He was bare-headed — she saw his thick hair and his 
 peaked forehead ; he smoked steadily ; he showed no 
 surprise at seeing her, and he did not speak to her 
 for a long time. At last, still without looking at her, 
 he began. She could just make out his smile, or 
 thought she could ; at any rate she was sure it was 
 there. 
 
 " Well, Mina de Kries ? " said he. She started a 
 little. " Oh, I don't believe in the late Zabriska ; I 
 don't believe you're grown up; I think you're about 
 fifteen — a beastly age." He put his cigar back in his 
 mouth. 
 
 " You see that window ? " he resumed in a moment. 
 " And you know what's happening behind it ? My 
 mother's dying there. Well, how's the Major ? Has 
 he got that trick in better order yet ? " 
 
 She found her tongue with difficulty. 
 
 [69]
 
 Tristram <?/ Blent 
 
 "Does Lady Tristram know about — about me?" 
 she stammered. 
 
 " I sometimes lie to my mother," said Harry, flick- 
 ing his ash into the river. " Why do you He to your 
 uncle, though ? " 
 
 " I didn't lie. You know I didn't lie." 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders wearily and relapsed 
 into silence. Silence there was till, a minute or two 
 later, it was broken by a little sob from Mina Zabriska. 
 He turned his head toward her ; then he took hold 
 of her arm and twisted her face round to him. The 
 tears were running down her checks. 
 
 " I'm so, so sorry," she murmured. " I didn't mean 
 to ; and I did it ! And now — now I can't stop it. 
 You needn't believe me if you don't like, but I'm — • 
 I'm miserable and — and frightened." 
 
 He flung his cigar into the water and put his hands 
 in his pockets. So he stood watching her, his body 
 swaying a little to and fro ; his eyes were suspicious 
 of her, yet they seemed amused also, and they were 
 not cruel ; it was not such a look as he had given her 
 when they parted by the Pool. 
 
 " If it were true?" she asked. " I mean, couldn't 
 Lady Tristram somehow ?" 
 
 " If what was true ? Oh, the nonsense you told 
 Duplay ? " He laughed. " If it was true, I should be 
 a nobody and nobody's son. I suppose that would 
 amuse you very much, wouldn't it? You wouldn't 
 have come to Merrion for nothing then ! But as it 
 isn't true, what's the use of talking? " 
 
 He won no belief from her when he said that it 
 was not true ; to her quick mind the concentrated 
 bitterness with which he described what it would 
 mean to him showed that he believed it and that the 
 thought was no new one ; in imagination he had 
 heard the world calling him many times what he now 
 
 [70]
 
 The Attraction of It 
 
 called himself — if the thing were true. She drew her 
 cloak round her and shivered. 
 
 "Cold?" he asked. 
 
 " No. Wretched, wretched." 
 
 "Would you like to see my mother?" 
 
 " You wouldn't let her see me ? " 
 
 " She's asleep, and the nurse is at supper — not that 
 she'd matter. Come along." 
 
 He turned and began to walk quickly toward the 
 house ; Mina followed him as though in a dream. 
 They entered a large hall. It was dark, save for one 
 candle, and she could see nothing of its furniture. He 
 led her straight up a broad oak staircase that rose 
 from the middle of it, and then along a corridor. The 
 polished oak gleamed here and there as they passed 
 candles in brackets on the wall, and was slippery un- 
 der her unaccustomed feet. The whole house was 
 very still — still, cool, and very peaceful. 
 
 Cautiously he opened a door and beckoned her to 
 follow him. Lights were burning in the room. Lady 
 Tristram lay sleeping ; her hair, still fair and golden, 
 spread over the pillow ; her face was calm and un- 
 lined. She seemed a young and beautiful girl wasted 
 by a fever ; but the fever was the fever of life as well 
 as of disease. Thus Mina saw again the lady she had 
 seen at Heidelberg. 
 
 " She won't wake — she's had her sleeping draught," 
 he said ; and Mina took him to mean that she might 
 linger a moment more. She cast her eyes round the 
 room. Over the fireplace, facing the bed, was a full- 
 length portrait of a girl. She was dressed all in red ; 
 the glory of her white neck, her brilliant hair, and 
 her blue eyes rose out of the scarlet setting. This 
 was Addie Tristram in her prime ; as she was 
 when she fled with Randolph Edge, as she was 
 when she cried in the little room at Heidelberg, 
 
 [71]
 
 Tristram ^Blent 
 
 " Think of the difference it makes, the enormous 
 difference ! " 
 
 " My mother hkes to have that picture there," 
 Harry explained. 
 
 The sleeping woman stirred faintly. In obedience 
 to a look from Harry, Mina followed him from the 
 room, and they passed downstairs and through the 
 hall together in silence. He came with her as far as 
 the bridge. There he paused. The scene they had 
 left had apparently stirred no new emotion in him ; 
 but Mina Zabriska was trembling and moved to the 
 heart. 
 
 " Now you've seen her — and before that you'd seen 
 me. And perhaps now you'll understand that we're 
 the Tristrams of Blent, and that we live and die that." 
 His voice grew a little louder. ** And your nonsense ! " 
 he exclaimed ; " it's all a lie. But if it was true ? It's 
 the blood, isn't it, not the law, that matters ? It's her 
 blood and my blood. That's my real title to Blent ! " 
 
 In the midst of his lying he spoke truth there, and 
 Mina knew it. It seemed as though there, to her, in 
 the privacy of that night, he lied as but a matter of 
 form ; his true heart, his true purpose, and his true 
 creed he showed her in his last words. By right 
 of blood he claimed to stand master of Blent, and so 
 he meant to stand. 
 
 " Yes," she said. " Yes, yes. God help you to it." 
 She turned and left him, and ran up the hill, catching 
 her breath in sobs again. 
 
 Harry Tristram stood and watched her as long as 
 he could see her retreating figure. There were no 
 signs of excitement about him ; even his confession 
 of faith he had spoken calmly, although with strong 
 emphasis. He smiled now as he turned on his heel 
 and took his way back to the house. 
 
 " The Major must play his hand alone now," he 
 
 [72]
 
 The Attraction of It 
 
 said ; " he'll get no more help from her." He paused 
 a moment. " It's a funny thing, though. That's not 
 really why I took her up." 
 
 He shook his head in puzzle ; perhaps he could 
 hardly be expected to recognize that it was that pride 
 of his — pride in his mother, his race, himself — which 
 had made him bid Mina Zabriska look upon Lady 
 Tristram as she slept. 
 
 [7Z]
 
 VII 
 
 The Moment Draws Near 
 
 NOT knowing your own mind, though gen- 
 erally referred to as an intellectual weakness 
 and sometimes as a moral fault, is none the 
 less now and then a pleasant state to live in for a 
 while. There is a richness of possibility about it, a 
 variety of prospects open, a choice of roads each in 
 its own fashion attractive. Besides, you can always 
 tell yourself that it is prudent to look all round the 
 question and consider all alternatives. The pleasure, 
 hke most pleasures, is greater when it comes once in 
 a way to a person unaccustomed to it. Janie Iver had 
 been brought up to know her own mind ; it was the 
 eleventh commandment in the Iver household. Iver 
 entertained the intellectual, his wife the moral objec- 
 tion to shilly-shallying; their daughter's training, 
 while conducted with all kindness, had been eminently 
 sensible, and early days had offered few temptations 
 to stray from the path of the obviously desirable. 
 The case was different now ; riches brought a change, 
 the world revealed its resources, life was spreading 
 out its diverse wares. Janie was much puzzled as to 
 what she ought to do, more as to what she wanted to 
 do, most of all as to what she would in the end do — 
 unless indeed the fact that she was puzzled continued 
 to rank as the greatest puzzle of all. 
 
 Naturally the puzzles were personified — or the per- 
 sons made into puzzles. Men became lives to her, as 
 well as individuals — the Tristram, the Duplay, the 
 
 [74]
 
 The Moment Draws Near 
 
 Broadley life ; her opinion of the Hfe comphcated her 
 feeling toward the person. The Tristram life at- 
 tracted her strongly, the life of the great lady ; Harry 
 had his fascination too ; but she did not think that 
 she and Harry would be very happy together, woman 
 and man. She was loth to let him go, with all that 
 he meant ; perhaps she would have been secretly re- 
 lieved if fate had taken him away from her. The 
 Duplay life promised another sort of joy : the Major's 
 experience was world-wide, his knowledge various, 
 his conversation full of hints of the unexplored ; she 
 would be broadening her life if she identified it with 
 his. Yet the Major was an approximate forty (on one 
 side or the other), in a few years would seem rather 
 old, and was not even now capable of raising a very 
 strong sentiment ; there too she would be taking 
 rather the life than the man. Lastly there was that 
 quiet Broadley life, to be transformed in some degree, 
 doubtless, by her wealth, but likely to remain in es- 
 sentials the peaceful homely existence which she knew 
 very well. It had little to set against the rival pros- 
 pects ; yet there was a feeling that in either of the 
 other two existences she would miss something; and 
 that something seemed to be Bob Broadley himself. 
 
 She found herself thinking, in terms superficially 
 repugnant to convention, that she would like to pay 
 long visits to the other men, but have Bob to come 
 home to when she was inclined for rest and tran- 
 quillity. Her perplexity was not strange in itself, but 
 it was strange and new to her ; imbued with the 
 parental views about shilly-shallying, she was angry 
 with herself and inclined to be ashamed. The excuse 
 she had made to Mina Zabriska did not acquit her 
 in her own eyes. Yet she was also interested, ex- 
 cited, and pleasantly awake to the importance which 
 her indecision gave her. 
 
 [75] 
 
 f
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 Judged from the outside, she was not open to blame 
 in her attitude toward Harry ; he was not in love 
 with her, and hardly pretended to be. She met him 
 fairly on a friendly footing of business ; he was the 
 sinner in that, while what she offered was undoubtedly 
 hers, what he proposed to give in return was only 
 precariously his. 
 
 Nor had Duplay any cause of complaint in being 
 kept waiting; he would be held exceedingly lucky 
 not to be sent to the right-about instantly. But with 
 Bob Broadley the matter was different. On the sub- 
 tle question of what exactly constitutes " encourage- 
 ment " (it is the technical term) in these cases it is 
 not perhaps necessary to enter ; but false hopes might, 
 no doubt, arise from her visits to Mingham, from her 
 habit of riding up the road by the river about the 
 time when Bob would be likely to be riding down it, 
 or of sauntering by the Pool on the days when he 
 drove his gig into Blentmouth on business — all this 
 being beyond and outside legitimate meetings at Fair- 
 holme itself. Unless she meant to marry him she 
 might indeed raise hopes that were false. 
 
 Yes, but it did not seem as though she did. Bob was 
 humble. She had tyrannized over him even before 
 the Ivers grew so very rich. (They had begun in a 
 small villa at Blentmouth — Miss Swinkerton lived 
 there now.) It was natural that she should tyran- 
 nize still. He saw that she liked to meet him ; grate- 
 ful for friendship, he was incredulous of more. His 
 disposition may plead in excuse for her ; whatever she 
 did, she would not disappoint a confident hope. 
 
 But she was always so glad to see him, and when she 
 was with him, he was no perplexity, he was only her 
 dear old friend. Well, and one thing besides — a man 
 whom it was rather amusing to try to get a compli- 
 ment out of, to try to torment into a manifestation of 
 
 [76]
 
 The Moment Draws Near 
 
 devotion ; it was all there ; Janie liked to lure it to 
 the surface sometimes. But Bob was not even visibly 
 miserable ; he was always equable, even jolly, with 
 so much to say about his horses and his farm that 
 sentiment did not always secure its fair share of the 
 interview. Janie, not being sentimental either, liked 
 all this even while it affronted her vanity. 
 
 " Send the gig home and stay and talk," she 
 commanded, as he stopped by her on the road ; he 
 was returning from Blentmouth to Mingham and 
 found her strolling by the Pool. " I want to speak 
 to you." 
 
 He had his bailifif with him — they had been selling a 
 cow — and left him to take the gig home. He shook 
 hands with frank cordiality. 
 
 "That's awfully nice of you," he said. "What 
 about ? " 
 
 " Nothing in particular," said she. " Mayn't I want 
 it just generally ? " 
 
 " Oh, well, I thought you meant there was something 
 special. I've sold the cow well. Miss Janie." 
 
 " Bother the cow ! Why haven't you been to Fair- 
 holme ? " 
 
 " Well, in fact, I'm not sure that Mr Iver is death on 
 seeing me there too often. But I shall turn up all right 
 soon." 
 
 " Have you been going about anywhere ? " 
 
 " No. Been up at Mingham most of the time." 
 
 " Isn't that rather lonely? " 
 
 " Lonely? Good Heavens, no! I've got too much 
 to do." 
 
 Janie glanced at him ; what was to be done with a 
 man who treated provocative suggestions as though 
 they were sincere questions ? If he had not cared for 
 her now ! But she knew he did. 
 
 " Well, I've been very dull, anyhow. One never 
 
 [77]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 sees anybody fresh at Fairholme now. It's always 
 either Mr. Tristram or Major Duplay." 
 
 " Well, I shouldn't be very fresh either, should I?" 
 The names she mentioned drew no sign from him. 
 
 " I don't count you as a visitor at all — and they are 
 visitors, I suppose." She seemed a Httle in doubt ; yet 
 both the gentlemen, at any rate, were not presumably 
 received as members of the family. 
 
 " I'll tell you what I've been thinking about," said 
 Bob, speaking slowly, and apparently approaching a 
 momentous announcement. 
 
 " Yes," she said, turning to him with interest, and 
 watching his handsome open face ; it was not a very 
 clever face, but it was a very pleasant one ; she enjoyed 
 
 looking at it. 
 
 I've been thinking that I'll sell the black horse, but 
 I can't make up my mind whether to do it now or keep 
 him through the summer and sell him when hunting 
 begins. I don't know which would pay me best." 
 
 " That certainly is a very important question," re- 
 marked Janie, with a wealth of sarcasm. 
 
 " Well, it gives me a lot of trouble, Miss Janie." 
 
 " Does it? And it doesn't interest me in the very — 
 Yes, it does. Bob, very much. I'm sorry. Of course 
 it does. Only " 
 
 " Anything the matter with you ? " Bob inquired 
 with friendly solicitude. 
 
 " No — not just now. There never is, somehow, when 
 I'm with you. And let's talk about the black horse — 
 it'll be soothing. Is the price of oats a factor? " 
 
 Bob laughed a little, but did not proceed with the 
 discussion. They sauntered on in silence for a few 
 minutes. Bob taking out his tobacco. 
 
 " Worried, aren't you? " he asked, lighting his pipe. 
 
 " Yes," she answered shortly. 
 
 " Was that what you wanted to say to me ? " 
 
 [78]
 
 The Moment Draws Near 
 
 " No, of course not ; as if I should talk to you 
 about it ! " 
 
 " Don't suppose you would, no. Still, we're friends, 
 aren't we ? " 
 
 " Do you feel friendly to me? " 
 
 " Friendly ! Well ! " He laughed. " What do 
 
 you think about it yourself? " he asked. " Look here, 
 I don't bother you, but I'm here when you want me." 
 
 " When I want you ? " 
 
 " I mean, if I can do anything for you, or — or advise 
 you. I don't think I'm a fool, you know." 
 
 " I'm really glad to hear you've got as far as that," 
 she remarked rather tartly. " Your fault. Bob, is not 
 thinking nearly enough of yourself." 
 
 " You'll soon change that, if you say much more." 
 His pleasure in her implied praise was obvious, but he 
 did not read a single word more into her speech than 
 the words she uttered. 
 
 " And you are friendly to me — still ? " 
 
 " It doesn't make any difference to me whether I see 
 you or not- 
 
 (i 
 
 What ? " she cried. The next moment she was 
 laughing. " Thanks, Bob, but — but you've a funny 
 way of putting things sometimes." She laid her hand 
 on his arm for a moment, sighing, " Dear old Bob ! " 
 
 " Oh, you know what I mean," he said, puffing away. 
 His healthy skin had flushed a trifle, but that was his 
 only reply to her little caress. 
 
 " If — if I came to you some day and said I'd been a 
 fool, or been made a fool of, and was very unhappy, and 
 — and wanted comforting, would you still be nice to 
 me?" 
 
 His answer came after a pufif and a pause. 
 
 " Well, if you ever get like that, I should recommend 
 you just to try me for what I'm worth," he said. Her 
 eyes were fixed on his face, but he did not look at her. 
 
 [79]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 Some men would have seen in her appeal an oppor- 
 tunity of trying to win from her more than she was 
 giving. The case did not present itself in that light to 
 Bob Broadley. He did not press his own advantage, 
 he hardly believed in it ; and he had, besides, a vague 
 idea that he would spoil for her the feeling she had if 
 he greeted it with too much enthusiasm. What she 
 wanted was a friend — a solid, possibly rather stolid, 
 friend ; with that commodity he was prepared to pro- 
 vide her. Any sign of agitation in her he answered 
 and hoped to quiet by an increased calm in his own 
 manner. The humblest of men have moments of pride ; 
 it must be confessed that Bob thought he was behaving 
 not only with proper feeling but also with considerable 
 tact — a tact that was based on knowledge of women. 
 Interviews such as these — and they were not infre- 
 quent — formed a rather incongruous background, but 
 also an undeniable relief, to the life Janie was leading 
 at Fairholme. That seemed to have little concern with 
 Bod Broadley and to be engrossed in the struggle be- 
 tween Harry and Duplay. Both men pressed on. 
 Harry had not been scared away. Duplay would win 
 without using his secret weapon, if he could. Each had 
 his manner ; Harry's constrained yet direct ; the 
 Major's more florid, more expressed in glances, com- 
 pliments, and attentions. Neither had yet risked the 
 decisive word. Janie was playing for delay. ' The 
 Major seemed inclined to grant it her ; he would make 
 every step firm under him before he took another for- 
 ward. But Harry grev/ impatient, was imperious in his 
 calls on her time, and might face her with the demand 
 for an answer any day. She could not explain how it 
 was, but somehow his conduct seemed to be influenced 
 by the progress of Lady Tristram's illness. She 
 gathered this idea from words he let fall ; perhaps his 
 mother wanted to see the affair settled before she died. 
 
 [80]
 
 The Moment Draws Near 
 
 Duplay often spoke of the illness too ; it could have 
 no importance for him at least, she thought. 
 
 About Harry Tristram anyhow she was right. He 
 was using to its full value his rival's chivalrous desire to 
 make no movement during Lady Tristram's lifetime ; 
 he reckoned on it and meant to profit by it. The Major 
 had indeed conveyed to him that the chivalry had its 
 limits ; even if that were so, Harry would be no worse 
 ofif ; and there was the chance that Duplay would not 
 speak. A look of brutality would be given to any action 
 of his while Lady Tristram lay dying ; Harry hoped this 
 aspect of his conduct would frighten him. At least it 
 was worth risking. The doctors talked of two months 
 more ; Harry Tristram meant to be engaged before one 
 of them was out. Could he be married before the sec- 
 ond ran its course ? Mrs Iver would have scoffed at the 
 idea, and Janie shrunk from it. But a dying mother's 
 appeal would count with almost irresistible strength in 
 such a case ; and Harry was sure of being furnished 
 with this aid. 
 
 He came to Fairholme a day or two after Janie had 
 talked with Bob Broadley. She was on the lawn ; with 
 her Mina Zabriska and a small, neat, elderly man, who 
 was introduced to him as Mr Jenkinson Neeld. Harry 
 paid little attention to this insignificant person, and 
 gave Mina no more than a careless shake of the hand 
 and a good-humored amused nod ; he was not afraid of 
 her any longer. She had done what harm she could. If 
 she did anything more now it would be on his side. 
 Else why had he shown her Lady Tristram ? He 
 claimed Janie and contrived to lead her to some chairs 
 on the other side of the lawn. 
 
 " And that's Mr Harry Tristram ? " said Neeld, look- 
 ing at him intently through his spectacles. 
 
 " Yes," said the Imp briefly — she was at the moment 
 ra,ther bored by Mr. Neeld. 
 
 [8i]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " An interesting-looking young man." 
 
 " Yes, he's interesting." And she added a moment 
 later, " You're having a good look at him, Mr 
 Neeld." 
 
 " Dear me, was I staring? I hope not. But — wdl, 
 we've all heard of his mother, you know." 
 
 " I'm afraid the next thing we hear about her will be 
 the last." What she had seen at Blent Hall was in hef 
 mind and she spoke sadly. " Mr Tristram will succeed 
 to his throne soon now." 
 
 Neeld looked at her as if he were about to speak, but 
 he said nothing, and his eyes wandered back to Harry 
 again. 
 
 " They're friends — Miss Iver and he ? " he asked at 
 last. 
 
 " Oh, it's no secret that he wants to marry her." 
 
 "And does she ?" 
 
 Mina laughed, not very naturally. "It's something 
 to be Lady Tristram of Blent." She smiled to think 
 how much more her words meant to herself than they 
 could mean to her companion. She would have been 
 amazed to find that Neeld was thinking that she would 
 not speak so lightly if she knew what he did. 
 
 Harry wanted to marry Janie Iver ! With a sudden 
 revulsion of feeling Neeld wished himself far from 
 Blentmouth. However it was his duty to talk to this 
 sharp little foreign woman, and he meant to try. A 
 few polite questions brought him to the point of in- 
 quiring her nationality. 
 
 " Oh, we're Swiss, French Swiss. But I was born at 
 Heidelberg. My mother lived there after my father 
 died. My uncle — who lives with me — Major Duplay, 
 is her brother ; he was in the Swiss Service." 
 
 " A pleasant society at Heidelberg, I dare say ? " 
 
 " Rather dull," said Mina. It seemed much the same 
 at Blentmouth at the moment. 
 
 [82]
 
 The Moment Draws Near 
 
 Iver strolled out from his study on to the lawn. He 
 cast a glance toward his daughter and Harry, frowned 
 slightly, and sat down on Mina's other side. He had a 
 newspaper in his hand, and he held it up as he spoke to 
 Neeld across Mina. 
 
 "Your book's promised for the 15th, I see, Neeld." 
 
 " Yes, it's to be out then." 
 
 Mina was delighted at being presented with a topic. 
 Sometimes it is the most precious of gifts. 
 
 " Oh, Mr Neeld, have you written a book ? How in- 
 teresting ! What is it ? A novel ? " 
 
 " My dear Madame Zabriska ! " murmured Neeld, 
 feeling as if he were being made fun of. " And it's not 
 really my book. I've only edited it." 
 
 " But that's just as good," Mina insisted amiably. 
 " Do tell me what it is." 
 
 " Here you are, Mina. There's the full title and 
 description for you. There's nothing else in the paper." 
 Iver handed it to her with a stifled yawn. She read and 
 turned to Neeld with a quick jerk of her head. 
 
 " Journal and Correspondence of Josiah Cholder- 
 ton ! " she repeated. " Oh, but — oh, but — well, that is 
 curious ! Why, we used to know Mr Choldcrton ! " 
 
 " You knew Mr Choldcrton ? " said Mr Neeld in 
 mild surprise. Then, with a recollection, he added, 
 " Oh, at Heidelberg, I dare say ? But you must have 
 been a child?" 
 
 " Yes, I was. Does he talk about Heidelberg? " 
 
 " He mentions it once or twice." In spite of himself 
 Neeld began to feel that he was within measurable 
 distance of getting on to difficult ground. 
 
 " What fun if he mentioned me ! Oh, but of course 
 he wouldn't say anything about a child of five ! " 
 
 The slightest start ran through Neeld's figure ; it 
 passed unnoticed. He looked sharply at Mina Zabriska. 
 She went on, in all innocence this time; she had no 
 
 [83]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 reason to think that Cholderton had been in possession 
 of any secrets, and if he had, it would not have occurred 
 to her that he would record them. 
 
 " He knew my mother quite well ; he used to come 
 and see us. Does he mention her — Madame de 
 Kries?" 
 
 There was a perceptible pause ; then Neeld answered 
 primly: 
 
 " I'm afraid you won't find your mother's name men- 
 tioned in Mr. Cholderton's Journal, Madame Za- 
 briska." 
 
 " How horrid ! " remarked Mina, greatly disap- 
 pointed; she regarded Mr Neeld with a new interest 
 all the same. 
 
 They were both struck with this strange coincidence 
 — as it seemed to them ; though in fact that they should 
 meet at Blentmouth was not properly a coincidence 
 at all. There was nothing surprising about it ; the 
 same cause and similar impulses had brought them 
 both there. The woman who lay dying at Blent and 
 the young man who sat making love under the tree 
 yonder — these and no more far-fetched causes — had 
 brought them both where they were. Mina knew the 
 truth about herself, Neeld about himself ; neither knew 
 or guessed it about the other. Hence their wonder and 
 their unreasonable feeling that there was something of 
 a fate bringing them together in that place. 
 
 " You're sure he says nothing about us ? " she 
 urged. 
 
 " You'll not find a word," he replied, sticking to 
 the form of assertion that salved his conscience. He 
 looked across the lawn again, but Janie and Harry had 
 disappeared amongst the bushes. 
 
 " You're sort of old acquaintances at second-hand, 
 then," said Iver, smiling. '"' Cholderton's the con- 
 necting link." 
 
 [84]
 
 The Moment Draws Near 
 
 " He didn't like me," remarked Mina. " He used to 
 call me the Imp." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Neeld in absent-minded acquies- 
 cence. " Yes, the Imp." 
 
 " You don't seem much surprised ! " cried Mina in 
 mock indignation. 
 
 " Surprised ? " He started more violently. " Oh, 
 
 yes — I — I — Of course ! I'm " A laugh from his 
 
 host spared him the efifort of further apologies. But 
 he was a good deal shaken ; he had nearly betrayed his 
 knowledge of the Imp. Indeed he could not rid him- 
 self of the idea that there was a very inquisitive look in 
 Madame Zabriska's large eyes. 
 
 Mina risked one more question, put very carelessly. 
 
 " I think he must have met Lady Tristram there once 
 or twice. Does he say anything about her? " 
 
 " Not a word," said Neeld, grasping the nettle firmly 
 this time. 
 
 Mina took another look at him, but he blinked reso- 
 lutely behind his glasses. 
 
 " Well, it's just like Mr Cholderton to leave out all 
 the interesting things," she observed resignedly. 
 " Only I wonder why you edit his book if it's like that, 
 you know." 
 
 " Hello, what's that ? " exclaimed Iver, suddenly 
 sitting up in his chair. 
 
 They heard the sound of a horse's galloping on the 
 road outside. The noise of the hoofs stopped sud- 
 denly. They sat listening. In a minute or two the 
 butler led a groom in the Tristram livery on to the lawn. 
 He came quickly across to Iver, touching his hat. 
 
 " Beg pardon, sir, but could I see Mr Tristram ? I've 
 an important message for him." 
 
 At the same moment Janie and Harry Tristram came 
 out on to the grass. Harry saw the groom and was 
 with them in a moment, Janie following. 
 
 [85]
 
 Tristram ^' Blent 
 
 " Well, Sam, what is it ? You were riding hard." 
 
 " Her ladyship has had a relapse, sir, and Dr Fryer 
 ordered me to ride over and tell you at once. No time 
 to lose, he said, sir." 
 
 " Did you bring a horse for me ? " 
 
 " No, sir. But I'm riding Quilldriver." 
 
 " I'll go back on him. You can walk." He turned 
 to the rest. '* I must go at once," he said. " I don't 
 know what this may mean." 
 
 " Not so bad as it sounds, I hope," said Iver. " But 
 you'd best be off at once." 
 
 Harry included Mina and Mr Neeld in one light nod, 
 and walked briskly toward the gate, Iver and Janie ac- 
 companying him. Mina and Neeld were left together, 
 and sat in silence some moments. 
 
 " It sounds as if she was dying," said Mina at last in 
 a low voice. 
 
 " Yes, poor woman ! " 
 
 " I saw her once lately. She was very beautiful, Mr 
 Neeld." 
 
 " Yes, yes, to her own great trouble, poor thing ! " 
 
 " You knew about ? " 
 
 " Oh, everybody knew, Madame Zabriska." 
 
 " Yes, and now she's dying! " She turned to him, 
 looking him fairly in the face. " And Harry'll be 
 Tristram of Blent," she said. 
 
 " Yes," said Neeld. " He'll be Tristram of Blent." 
 
 Both fell into silence again, lookingly absently at the 
 sunshine playing among the trees. They were not to 
 share their secret just yet. A link was missing be- 
 tween them still. 
 
 Harry came to where the horse was, and stood there 
 for a moment, while the groom altered the stirrups to 
 suit him. 
 
 " It's the beginning of the end, if not the end itself," 
 he said. 
 
 [86]
 
 The Moment Draws Near 
 
 " Our earnest good wishes to her." 
 
 " My love," said Janie. Her father glanced quickly 
 at her. 
 
 Harry jumped into the saddle, waved his hand to 
 them, and started at a gallop for Blent. The groom, 
 with another touch of his hat, trudged off in his mas- 
 ter's track. Janie Iver stood looking as long as Harry 
 was in sight. 
 
 " He won't spare the horse," said Iver. 
 
 " Well, he can't this time ; and anyhow he wouldn't, 
 if he wanted to get there." She took her father's arm 
 and pressed it. "Father, Harry Tristram has just asked 
 me to marry him. He said Lady Tristram wanted it 
 settled before — before she died, or he wouldn't have 
 spoken so soon." 
 
 "Well, Janie dear?" 
 
 " When the groom came, I had just told him that I 
 would give him an answer in a week. But now ! " She 
 made a gesture with her free hand ; it seemed to mean 
 bewilderment. She could not tell what would happen 
 now. 
 
 [87]
 
 VIII 
 
 Duty and Mr. Neeld 
 
 WHEN Mina Zabriska brought back the news 
 from Fairholme, and announced it with an 
 intensity of significance which the sudden 
 aggravation of an illness long known to be mortal 
 hardly accounted for, Major Duplay grew very 
 solemn. The moment for action approached, and the 
 nearer it came, the less was the Major satisfied with 
 his position and resources. The scene by the Pool had 
 taught him that he would have a stifif fight. He had 
 been hard hit by Harry's shrewd suggestion that he 
 must ask Iver himself for the means of proving what 
 he meant to tell Iver. The only alternative, however, 
 was to procure money for the necessary investigations 
 from his niece ; and his niece, though comfortably ofif, 
 was not rich. Nor was she any longer zealous in the 
 cause. The Imp was sulky and sullen with him, sorry 
 she had ever touched the affair at all, ready, he sus- 
 pected, to grasp at any excuse for letting it drop. This 
 temper of hers foreboded a refusal to open her purse. 
 It was serious in another way. Of himself Duplay 
 knew nothing; Mina was his only witness; her 
 evidence, though really second-hand, was undoubtedly 
 weighty ; it would at least make inquiries necessary. 
 But would she give it ? Duplay was conscious that she 
 was capable of turning round on him and declaring 
 that she had made a blunder. If she did that, what 
 would happen? Duplay was sure that Harry had 
 
 [88]
 
 Duty and Mr Neeld 
 
 formal proofs, good and valid prima facie; he would 
 need Mina, money, and time to upset them. There 
 were moments when the Major himself wished that he 
 had relied on his own attractions, and not challenged 
 Harry to battle on any issue save their respective power 
 to win Janie Tver's affections. But it seemed too late 
 to go back. Besides, he was in a rage with Harry; his 
 defeat by the Pool rankled. Harry, as usual, had 
 spared his enemy none of the bitterness of defeat ; 
 Duplay would now take pleasure in humbling him 
 for the sake of the triumph itself, apart from its effect 
 on the Ivers, father and daughter. But could he do it ? 
 He abode by the conclusion that he was bound to tr}'. 
 but he was not happy in it. 
 
 Harry's attitude would be simple. He would at the 
 proper time produce his certificates, testifying to the 
 death of Sir Randolph, the marriage of his parents, his 
 own birth. The copies were in perfect order and duly 
 authenticated ; tl^,ev were evidence in themselves ; the 
 originals j^Jd be'*lTa|L and would bear out the copies. 
 All this hfro been welflboked after, and Duplay did not 
 doubt it. What had he to set against it ? Only that the 
 third certificate was false, and that somewhere — 
 neither he nor even Mina knew where — bearing some 
 dates — neither he nor Mina knew what — there must be 
 two other certificates — one fatal to Harry's case as 
 fixing his birth at an earlier date, the other throwing 
 at least grave suspicion on it by recording a second 
 ceremony of marriage. But where were these certi- 
 ficates? Conceivably they had been destroyed; that 
 was not likely, but it was possible. At any rate, to find 
 them would need much time and some money. On re- 
 flection, the Major could not blame Harry for defying 
 him by the Pool. 
 
 It will be seen that the information which Mina had 
 gleaned from her mother, and filled in from her own 
 
 [89J
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 childish recollection, was not so minute in the matter of 
 dates as that which Madame de Kries had given at the 
 time of the events to Mr Cholderton, and which was 
 now locked away in the drawer at Mr Jenkinson 
 Neeld's chambers. The Major would have been ma- 
 terially assisted by a sight of that document ; it would 
 have narrowed the necessary area of inquiry and given 
 a definiteness to his assertions which must have car- 
 ried added weight with Mr Iver. As it was, be began 
 to be convinced that Mina would decline to remember 
 any dates even approximately, and this was all she 
 had professed to do in her first disclosure. Duplay 
 acknowledged that, as matters stood, the betting was 
 in favor of his adversary. 
 
 Mina, being sulky, would not talk to her uncle ; she 
 could not talk to Janie Iver; she did not see Harry, 
 and would not have dared to talk to him if she had. 
 But it need hardly be said that she was dying to talk to 
 somebody. With such matters on hand, she strug- 
 gled against silence like soda-water against the cork. 
 Merely to stare down at Blent and wonder'what was 
 happening there whetted a curiosity it could not 
 satisfy. She felt out of the game, and the feeling was 
 intolerable. As a last resort, in a last effort to keep in 
 touch with it, although she had been warned that she 
 would find nothing of interest to her in the volume, 
 she telegraphed to a bookseller in London to send her 
 Mr. Cholderton's Journal. It came the day after it was 
 published, four days after she had made Mr Neeld's 
 acquaintance, and while Lady Tristram, contrary to 
 expectation, still held death at arm's length and lay 
 looking at her own picture. The next morning Neeld 
 received a pressing invitation to go to tea at Merrion 
 Lodge. Withovit a moment's hesitation he went ; with 
 him too all resolutions to know and to care nothing 
 further about the matter vanished before the first 
 
 [90]
 
 Duty and Mr Neeld 
 
 chance of seeing more of it. And Mina had been Mina 
 de Kries. 
 
 She received him in the library ; the Journal lay on 
 the table. Something had restored animation to her 
 manner and malice to her eyes ; those who knew her 
 well would have conjectured that she saw her way to 
 making somebody uncomfortable. But there was also 
 an underlying nervousness which seemed to hint at 
 something beyond. She began by flattering her visitor 
 outrageously and indulging in a number of false state- 
 ments regarding her delight with the Journal and the 
 amusement and instruction she had gained from it ; 
 she even professed to have mastered the Hygroxeric 
 Method, observing that a note by the Editor put the 
 whole thing in a nutshell. Much pleased, yet vaguely 
 disappointed, Mr Neeld concluded that she had no 
 more to say about the visit to Heidelberg. 
 
 The Imp turned over the pages leisurely while Neeld 
 sipped his tea. 
 
 " I see you put little asterisk things where you 
 leave out anything," she observed. " That's con- 
 venient, isn't it? " 
 
 " I think it's usual," said he. 
 
 " And another thing you do — Oh, you really are a 
 splendid editor ! — you put the date at the top of every 
 page — even where Mr Cholderton's entry runs over 
 ever so many pages. He is rather long sometimes, 
 isn't he?" 
 
 " I've always found the date at the top of the page 
 a convenience in reading myself," said Mr Neeld. 
 
 " Yes, it tells you just where you are — and where 
 Mr Cholderton was." She laughed a little. " Yes, 
 look here, page 365, May 1875, ^i^'s at Berlin! Then 
 there are some asterisks " — Mr Neeld looked up from 
 his tea — " and you turn over the page " (the Imp 
 turned over with the air of a discoverer), " and yon 
 
 [91]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 find him at Interlaken in — why, in August, Mr 
 Neeld ! " An amiable surprise appeared on her face, 
 " Where was he in between ? " she asked. 
 
 " I — I suppose he stayed at Berlin." 
 
 " Oh, perhaps. No — look here. He says, ' I had 
 not previously met Sir Silas Minting, as I left Berlin 
 before he arrived in the beginning of June.' " 
 
 The Imp laid down the Journal, leant back in her 
 chair, and regarded Neeld steadily. 
 
 " You told me right," she added ; '' I don't find any 
 mention of my mother — nor of Heidelberg. It's 
 rather funny that he doesn't mention Heidelberg." 
 
 She poured out a second cup of tea and — waited. 
 The first part of her work was done. She had made 
 Neeld very uncomfortable. " Because," she added, 
 after she had given her previous remarks time to soak 
 in, " between May and August 1875 is just about the 
 time I remember him at Heideiberg^he time when 
 he met Mrs Fitzhubert, you know." 
 
 She nodded her head slightly toward the window, 
 the window that looked down to the valley and gave 
 a view of the house where Lady Tristram lay. Mina 
 was keenly excited now. Had the Journal told 
 Neeld anything ? Was that the meaning of his 
 asterisks? 
 
 " There was something about his visit to Heidel- 
 berg, but it contained nothing of public interest, 
 Madame Zabriska, and in my discretion I omitted 
 it." 
 
 '' Why didn't you tell me that the other day ? You 
 gave me to understand that he only mentioned Heidel- 
 berg casually." 
 
 " I may have expressed myself '* 
 
 " And did he mention us? " 
 
 Neeld rose to his feet and took a turn up and down 
 the room. 
 
 [92]
 
 Duty and Mr Neeld 
 
 " In my discretion I left the passage out. I can 
 answer no questions about it. Please don't press me, 
 Madame Zabriska." 
 
 " I will know," she said excitedly, almost angrily. 
 
 Neeld came to a stand opposite her, deep perplexity 
 expressing itself in his look and manner. 
 
 " Did he talk about us ? Did he talk about Lady 
 Tristram ? " 
 
 " I am speaking to you, and to you only, Madame 
 Zabriska ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes — to me only." 
 
 " He did mention you, and he did speak of Lady 
 Tristram." 
 
 " That's why you weren't surprised when I told you 
 he called me the Imp ! " She smiled a moment, and 
 Neeld smiled too. But in an instant she was eager 
 again. " And about Lady Tristram ? " 
 
 " It was no use reprinting poor Lady Tristram's 
 story." He sat down again, trying to look as though 
 the subject were done with ; but he rubbed his hands 
 together nervously and would not meet Mina's eyes. 
 There was a long pause ; Mina rose, took the Journal, 
 put it in the cupboard and turned the key on it. She 
 came back and stood over him. 
 
 " You know? " she said. " It was in the Journal? 
 I'm sure you know." 
 
 " Know what? " Mr Neeld was fighting in the last 
 ditch. 
 
 " But I don't want to tell you unless you know ! No, 
 I'm sure you know ! " 
 
 " And do you know ? " 
 
 " Yes, I know. My mother told me." 
 
 They understood one another now. Neeld made no 
 further pretence. 
 
 " You mean about Harry Tristram ?" he asked, sim- 
 ply, but in a low voice. 
 
 [93]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " Yes. At first I didn't know what it meant to him. 
 But I know now." 
 
 Neeld made no reply, and there was another mo- 
 ment of silence. Neeld wore a restless, timid, uneasy 
 air, in strong contrast to the resolute intensity of 
 Mina's manner ; she seemed to have taken and to keep 
 the upper hand of him. 
 
 "And you know what it would mean to him ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 Neeld nodded ; of course he knew that. 
 
 " What are you going to do ? " 
 
 He raised his hands and let them drop again in a 
 confession that he did not know. 
 
 " I knew, and I told," she said. He started a 
 little. " Yes, I told, because I was spiteful. I was the 
 Imp! I've never been happy since I told. Mr Tris- 
 tram knows I've told, though he denies there's any- 
 thing in it. But he knows I've told. And still he's 
 been kind to me." Her voice shook. 
 
 " You told ? Whom did you tell ? " 
 
 " Never mind — or guess, if you can. I shan't tell 
 him any more. I shan't help him any more. I won't 
 speak. I will not speak. I'm for Mr Tristram. Thick 
 and thin, I'm for Mr Tristram now." She came a step 
 nearer to him. " The man I told may try ; but I don't 
 think he can do much without us — without me and 
 without you. If we keep quiet, no, he can't do much. 
 Why should we tell? Is it our business? You sup- 
 pressed it in the Journal. Can't you suppress it 
 now ? " 
 
 " The Ivers? " he stammered. 
 
 " The Ivers ! What's it to the Ivers compared to 
 what it is to him? It'll never come out. If it did — Oh, 
 but it won't ! It's life and death to him. And isn't it 
 right? Isn't it justice? He's her son. This thing's 
 just a horrible accident. Oh, if vou'd heard him 
 
 [94]
 
 Duty and Mr Neeld 
 
 speak of Blent ! " She paused a moment, rubbing 
 her hand across her eyes. Then she threw herself 
 back into her chair, asking again, " What are you go- 
 ing to do? " 
 
 He sat silent, thinking hard. It was not his busi- 
 ness. Right and justice seemed, in some sense at least, 
 on Harry's side. But the law is the law. And there 
 were his friends the Ivers. In him there was no motive 
 of self-interest such as had swayed Major Duplay and 
 made his action seem rather ugly even to himself. 
 Neeld owed loyalty and friendship ; that was all. Was 
 it loyal, was it friendly, to utter no word while friends 
 were deceived? With what face would he greet Iver 
 if the thing did come out afterward ? He debated with 
 entire sincerity the point that Major Duplay had in- 
 voked in defence of himself against his conscience. On 
 the other side was the strong sympathy which that 
 story in the Journal had created in him since first he 
 read it, and realized its perverse little tragedy ; and 
 there was the thought of Lady Tristram dying down at 
 Blent. 
 
 The long silence was broken by neither of them. 
 Neeld was weighing his question ; Mina had made her 
 appeal and waited for an answer. The quiet of the 
 book-lined room (There were the yellowy-brown 
 volumes from which Mina had acquired her lore !) was 
 broken by a new voice. They both started to hear it, 
 and turned alert faces to the window whence it came. 
 Harry Tristram, in flannels and a straw hat, stood 
 looking in. 
 
 " I've got an hour off." he explained, " so I walked 
 up to thank you for the flowers. My mother liked 
 them, and liked to have them from you." He saw 
 Neeld, and greeted him courteously. " I asked her if 
 I should give you her love, and she said yes — with 
 her eyes, you know, She speaks mostly that way now. 
 
 [95]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 Well, she always did a good deal, I expect." His 
 smile came on the last words. 
 
 "She sent her love to me?" 
 
 " Yes. I told her what you did one evening, and she 
 liked that too." 
 
 *' I hope Lady Tristram is — er — going on well ? " 
 asked Neeld. 
 
 " She doesn't suffer, thank you." 
 
 Mina invited him in ; there was an appositeness in 
 his coming which appealed to her, and she watched 
 Neeld with covert eagerness. 
 
 Harry looked round the room, then vaulted over the 
 sill. 
 
 " My uncle's playing golf with Mr Tver," remarked 
 Mina. "Tea?" 
 
 " No; too sick-roomy. I'm for nothing but strong 
 drink now — and I've had some." He came to the mid- 
 dle of the room and stood between them, flinging his 
 hat on the table where Mr Cholderton's Journal had 
 so lately lain. " My mother's an extraordinary 
 woman," he went on, evidently so full of his thought 
 that he must speak it out ; " she's dying joyfully." 
 
 After an instant Mina asked, " Why?" Neeld was 
 surprised at the baldness of the question, but Harry 
 took it as natural. 
 
 " It's like going off guard — I mean, rather, off duty 
 ■ — to her, I think." He made the correction thought- 
 fully and with no haste. " Life has always seemed 
 rather like an obligation to do things you don't want 
 to — not that she did them all — and now she's tired, 
 she's glad to leave it to me. Only she wishes I was a 
 bit better-looking, though she won't admit it. She 
 couldn't stand a downright ugly man at Blent, you 
 know. I've a sort of notion " — he seemed to forget 
 Neeld, and looked at Mina for sympathy — " that she 
 thinks she'll be able to come and have a look at 
 
 [96]
 
 Duty and Mr Neeld 
 
 Blent and me in it, all the same." His smile took a 
 whimsical turn as he spoke of his mother's dying 
 fancies. 
 
 Mina glanced at Mr Neeld; was the picture visible 
 to him that rose before her eyes — of the poor sprite 
 coming eagerly, but turning sadly away when she saw a 
 stranger enthroned at Blent, and knew not where to 
 look for her homeless, landless son? Mina was not 
 certain that she could safely credit Neeld with such 
 a flight of imagination ; still he was listening, and his 
 eyes were very gentle behind his spectacles. 
 
 " The parson came to see her yesterday. He's not 
 what you'd call an unusual man, Madame Zabriska — 
 and she is an unusual woman, you know. It was — 
 yes, it was amusing, and there's an end of it." He 
 paused, and added, by way of excuse, " Oh, I know 
 her so well, you see. She wouldn't be left alone with 
 him ; she wanted another sinner there." 
 
 Mina marked the change in him — the new expan- 
 siveness, the new appeal for sympathy. He had for- 
 gotten his suspicion and his watchfulness ; she was 
 inclined to say that he had forgotten himself. On her 
 death-bed Addie Tristram had exerted her charm once 
 more — and over her own son. Once more a man, 
 whatever his own position, thought mainly of her — 
 and that man was her son. Did Neeld see this ? To 
 Neeld it came as the strongest reinforcement to the 
 feelings which bade him hold his peace. It seemed an 
 appeal to him, straight from the death-bed in the valley 
 below. Harry found the old gentleman's gaze fixed in- 
 tently on him. 
 
 " I beg your pardon for troubling you with all this, 
 Mr Neeld," he said, relapsing rather into his defensive 
 attitude. " Madame Zabriska knows my ways." 
 
 " No, I don't think I know this new way of yours 
 at all," she objected. " But I like it, Mr Tristram. I 
 
 [97]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 feel all you do. I have seen her." She turned to 
 Neeld. " Oh, how I wish you had ! " she cried. 
 
 Her earnestness stirred a little curiosity in Harry. 
 He glanced with his old wariness at Neeld. But what 
 could he see save a kindly precise old gentleman, who 
 was unimportant to him but seemed interested in what 
 he said. He turned back to Mina, asking: 
 
 " A new way of mine ? " 
 
 " Well, not quite. You were rather like it once. 
 But generally you've got a veil before your face. Or 
 perhaps you're really changed ? " 
 
 He thought for a moment. " Things change a 
 man." And he added, " I'm only twenty-two." 
 
 " Yes, I know," she smiled, " though I constantly 
 forget it all the same." 
 
 " Well, twenty-three, come the twentieth of July," 
 said he. His eyes were on hers, his characteristic 
 smile on his lips. It was a challenge to her. 
 
 _ " I shan't forget the date," she answered, answering 
 his look too. He sighed lightly ; he was assured that 
 she was with him. 
 
 The twentieth of July ! The Editor of Mr Cholder- 
 ton's Journal sat by listening; he raised no voice in 
 protest. 
 
 " I must get back," said Harry. " Walk with me 
 to the dip of the hill." 
 
 With a glance of apology to Neeld, she followed him 
 and stepped out of the window ; there were two steps 
 at the side leading up to it. " I'll be back directly," 
 she cried over her shoulder, as she joined Harry Tris- 
 tram. They walked to the gate which marked the end 
 of the terrace on which Merrion stood. 
 
 " I'm so glad you came ! You do believe in me 
 now? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes, and I'm not afraid. But do you know — it 
 seems incredible to me — I'm not thinking of that now. 
 
 [98]
 
 Duty and Mr Neeld 
 
 I shall again directly, when it's over. But now — well, 
 Blent won't seem much without my mother." 
 
 " She couldn't rest if you weren't there," cried Mina, 
 throwing back the impression she had received, as her 
 disposition made her. 
 
 " I haven't changed about that, but it will wait. 
 Three days they say now — three days, or maybe four, 
 and then — she goes." 
 
 Together they stood, looking down. Mina's heart 
 was very full. She was with the Tristrams indeed 
 now, thick and thin ; their cause seemed hers, their 
 house must stand. 
 
 Harry turned to her suddenly. 
 
 " Say nothing of this to the Major. Let him alone ; 
 that's best. We'll see about all that afterward. Good- 
 by." 
 
 " And — and the Ivers ? " She could not restram the 
 question. 
 
 A slight frown came on his brow ; he seemed to have 
 no relish for the subject. 
 
 " Oh, that'll wait too," he said impatiently. He 
 caught her by the arm as he had done once before. " If 
 all they said was true, if what you think was true (he 
 smiled at her as he spoke), I'd change with no man in 
 England ; remember that. If it comes to a fight and 
 I'm beaten, remember that." And he ran down the 
 hill. 
 
 Mina returned slowly to the library and found Neeld 
 walking restlessly to and fro. For the moment they 
 did not speak. Mina sat down and followed the old 
 gentleman's figure in its restless pacing. 
 
 " You heard him about his mother?" she asked at 
 last. 
 
 He nodded, but did not reply. 
 
 " You make all the difiference," she blurted out after 
 another pause. 
 
 [99]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 Again he nodded, not ceasing his walk. For a 
 minute or two longer Mina endured the suspense, 
 though it seemed more than she could bear. Then she 
 sprang up, ran to him, intercepted him, and caught 
 hold of both his hands, arresting his progress with an 
 eager, imperious grip. 
 
 " Well ? " she cried. " Well ? What are you going 
 to do?" 
 
 For a moment still he waited. Then he spoke de- 
 liberately. 
 
 " I can't consider it my duty to do anything, 
 Madame Zabriska." 
 
 " Ah ! " cried the Imp in shrill triumph, and she 
 flung her arms round his neck and kissed him. She 
 did not mind his putting it on the score of duty. 
 
 [lOO]
 
 IX 
 
 The Man in Possession 
 
 IN these days Janie Tver would have been lonely 
 but for the Major's attentions. Her father had 
 gone to London on business — showing, to Mr 
 Neeld's relief, no disposition to take the Journal with 
 him to read on the wa}/ — Neeld was absurdly nervous 
 about the Journal now. Her mother was engrossed in 
 a notable scheme which Miss Swinkerton had started 
 for the benefit of the poor of Blentmouth. Bible- 
 readings, a savings-bank, and cottage-gardens were so 
 inextricably mingled in it that the beneficiary, if she 
 liked one, had to go in for them all. " Just my ob- 
 ject," Miss Swinkerton would remark triumphantly 
 as she set the flower-pots down on the Bibles, only to 
 find that the bank-books had got stored away with the 
 seed. Clearly Mrs Iver, chief aide-de-camp, had no 
 leisure. Harry was at Blent ; no word and no sign 
 came from him. Bob Broadley never made advances. 
 The field was clear for the Major. Janie, grateful for 
 his attentions, yet felt vaguely that he was more amus- 
 ing as one of two attentive cavaliers than when he 
 was her only resource. A sense of flatness came over 
 her sometimes. In fact the centre of interest had 
 shifted from her ; she no longer held the stag? ; it was 
 occupied now, for the few days she had still to live, 
 by Lady Tristram. Moreover, Duplay was puzzling. 
 Although not a girl who erected every attention or 
 every indication of liking into an obligation to propose 
 matrimony, Janie knew that after a certain point things 
 
 [lOl]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 of this kind were supposed to go either forward or 
 backward, not to remain in statu quo. If her own 
 bearing toward Bob contradicted this general rule — 
 well, that was an exceptional case. In Duplay's in- 
 stance she could see nothing .exceptional. She her- 
 self was not eager for a final issue — indeed that would 
 probably be brought about in another way — but, 
 knowing nothing of his diplomatic reasons for delay, 
 she thought he ought to be. It is not very flattering 
 when a gentleman takes too long over considering 
 such a matter; a touch of impetuosity is more be- 
 coming. She would have preferred that he should 
 need to be put off, and failed to understand why (if it 
 may be so expressed) he put himself off from day to 
 day. 
 
 But Duplay's reasons were, in fact, overwhelming. 
 Lady Tristram lived still, and he had the grace to 
 count that as the strongest motive for holding his 
 hand. Harry's campaign was for the moment at a 
 standstill ; Duplay had no doubt he would resume it 
 as soon as his mother was buried ; on its apparent 
 progress the Major's action would depend. It was just 
 possible that he could defeat his enemy without his 
 secret weapon ; in that event he pictured himself writ- 
 ing a letter to Harry, half sorrowful, half magnani- 
 mous, in which he would leave that young man to settle 
 matters with his conscience, and, for his own part, 
 wash his hands of the whole affair. But his conviction 
 was that there would come a critical moment at which 
 he could go to Iver, not (as he must now) without any 
 compelling reason, but in the guise of a friend who acjs 
 reluctantly yet under an imperious call. What would 
 happen if he did ? Victory, he used to repeat to him- 
 self. But often his heart sank. Mina was with him no 
 more ; he never thought of Neeld as a possible ally ; 
 Harry's position was strong. Among the reasons for 
 
 [102]
 
 The Man in Possession 
 
 inactivity which Dnplay did not acknowledge to him- 
 self was the simple and common one that he was in his 
 heart afraid to act. He meant to act, but he shrank 
 from it and postponed the hour as long as he could. De- 
 feat would be very ignominious ; and he could not deny 
 that defeat was possible merely from want of means to 
 carry on the war. When the Major recognized this 
 fact he was filled with a sombre indignation at the in- 
 equalities of wealth, and at the ways of a world where- 
 in not even Truth shall triumph unless she commands 
 a big credit at the bank. 
 
 And Mina annoyed him intensely, assuming an ag- 
 grieved air, and hinting severe moral condemnation 
 in every glance of her eye. She behaved for all the 
 world as though the Major had begun the whole thing, 
 and entirely ignored her own responsibility. She con- 
 veyed the view that he was the unscrupulous assailant, 
 she the devoted defender, of the Tristrams. Such 
 a volte-face as this was not only palpably unjust, it 
 was altogether too nimble a bit of gymnastics for 
 Duplay to appreciate. The general unreasonableness 
 of woman was his only refuge ; but the dogma 
 could not bring understanding, much less consolation, 
 with it. 
 
 " What did you tell me for, then? " he cried at last. 
 " You were hot on it then. Now you say you won't 
 help me, you'll have nothing more to do with it ! " 
 
 " I only told it you as — as a remarkable circum- 
 stance," the Imp alleged, with a wanton disregard for 
 truth. 
 
 " Nonsense, Mina. You were delighted to have a 
 weapon against young Tristram then." 
 
 " I can't help it if you insist on misunderstanding 
 me, uncle ; and, anyhow, I suppose I can change my 
 mind if I like, can't I? " 
 
 " No," he declared, " it's not fair to me. I can't 
 
 [103]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 make you out at all. You're not in love with Harry 
 Tristram, are you? " 
 
 "With that boy?" asked Mina, attempting to be 
 superb. 
 
 " That's women's old nonsense," observed Duplay, 
 twirling his mustache knowingly. " They often fall in 
 love with young men and always try to pass it off by 
 calling them boys." 
 
 " Of course I haven't your experience, uncle," she 
 rejoined, passing into the sarcastic vein. 
 
 " And if you are," he went on, reverting to the 
 special case, " I don't see why you make his path 
 smooth to Janie Iver." 
 
 " Some people are capable of self-sacrifice in their 
 love." 
 
 " Yes, but I shouldn't think you'd be one of them," 
 said the Major rather rudely. He looked at her curi- 
 ously. Her interest in Harry was unmistakable, her 
 championship of him had become thorough-going, 
 fierce, and (to the Major's mind) utterly unscrupulous. 
 Was he faced with a situation so startlingly changed? 
 Did his niece object to turning Harry off his throne 
 because she harbored a hope of sharing it with him? 
 If that were so, and if the hope had any chance of be- 
 coming a reality, Duplay would have to reconsider his 
 game. But what chance of success could there be? 
 She would (he put it bluntly in his thoughts) only be 
 making a fool of herself. 
 
 The" Imp screwed up her little lean face into a 
 grimace which served effectually to cover any sign 
 of her real feelings. She neither admitted nor denied 
 the charge levied against her. She was bewildering 
 her uncle, and she found, as usual, a genuine pleasure 
 in the pursuit. If she were also bewildering herself 
 a little with her constant thoughts of Harry Tristram 
 and her ardent championship of his cause, well, in the 
 
 [104]
 
 The Man in Possession 
 
 country there is such a thing as being too peaceful, 
 and up to the present time the confusion of feeling had 
 been rather pleasant than painful. 
 
 " I don't really know what I feel," she remarked the 
 next moment. " But you can read women, uncle, 
 you've often said so, and I dare say you really know 
 more about what I feel than I do myself." A gross- 
 ness of innocence was her new assumption. " Now 
 judging from what I do and look — that's the way to 
 judge, isn't it, not from what I say? — what do you 
 think my real inmost feelings are about Mr Tris- 
 tram ? " 
 
 If the Major had been asked what his real inmost 
 feelings about his niece were at the moment, he would 
 have been at some difficulty to express them decor- 
 ously. She was back at fifteen — a particularly exas- 
 perating child of fifteen. Her great eyes, with their 
 mock gravity, were fixed on his irritated face. lie 
 would have agreed absolutely with Air Cholderton's 
 estimate of the evil in her, and of its proper remedy. 
 
 Wherein Duplay was derided his niece made very 
 plain to him ; wherein his words had any effect was 
 studiously concealed. Yet she repeated the words 
 when he had, with a marked failure of temper, gone 
 his way and slammed the door behind him. " In love 
 with Harry Tristram ! " Mina found the idea at once 
 explanatory and picturesque. Why otherwise was she 
 his champion ? She paused (as they say) for a reply. 
 How better could she draw to herself a part and a share 
 in the undoubtedly romantic situation in which she 
 grouped the facts of the case ? By being in love with 
 Harry she became part of the drama ; and she com- 
 plicated the drama most delightfully. Janie knew 
 nothing — she knew everything. Janie hesitated — 
 what if she did not hesitate ? A big role opened before 
 her eyes. What if it were very unlikely that Harry 
 
 [105]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 would reciprocate her proposed feelings? The Imp 
 hesitated between a natural vexation and an artistic 
 pleasure. Such a failure on his part would wound the 
 woman, but it would add pathos to the play. She be- 
 came almost sure that she could love Harry ; she re- 
 mained uncertain whether he should return the com- 
 pliment. And, after all, to be Lady Tristram of Blent ! 
 That was attractive. Or (in case Harry suffered defeat) 
 to be Lady Tristram of Blent in the sight of heaven (a 
 polite and time-honored way of describing an arrange- 
 ment not recognized on earth, and quite adaptable to 
 the present circumstances) ; that had a hardly less 
 alluring, and at least a rarer, flavor. The Imp looked 
 down on Blent with an access of interest. Monsieur 
 Zabriska had left her with unexhausted reserves of 
 feeling. Moreover she could not be expected to help 
 her uncle if she were seriously attached to Harry. 
 The moral of all this for the Major was that it is un- 
 wise to suggest courses of action unless you are will- 
 ing to see them carried out, or channels of emotion 
 unless you are prepared to find them filled. 
 
 " Some people are capable of self-sacrifice in their 
 love." That would mean being his champion still, and 
 letting him marry Janie Iver. She did not object much 
 to her own part, but she cavilled suddenly at Janie's — 
 or at Harry's relation to Janie. Would it be better to 
 share adversity with him? Perhaps. But, after all, 
 she did not fancy him in adversity. The third course 
 recommended itself — victory for him, but not Janie. 
 Who then ? 
 
 At this point Mina became sensible of no more than 
 the vaguest visions, not at all convincing even to her- 
 self. By a sad deficiency of imagination, she could 
 give no definiteness to a picture of Harry Tristram 
 making love. He had never, to her mind, looked Hke 
 it with Janie Iver, even while he had purported to be 
 
 [1 06]
 
 The Man in Possession 
 
 doing it. He never looked like it at all, not even as 
 though he could do it. Stay, though ! That new way 
 of his, which she had marked when he came up the hill 
 to thank her for the flowers, was an exception. But 
 the new way had been for his mother's sake. Now a 
 man cannot be in love with his mother. The question 
 grew more puzzling, more annoying, more engross- 
 ing still. 
 
 While full of these problems, refusing indeed to be 
 anything else, Mina was surprised by a visit from Miss 
 Swinkerton, who sought a subscription for the scheme 
 of which an inadequate account has already been given. 
 Miss Swinkerton (for some reason she was generally 
 known as Miss S., a vulgar style of description pos- 
 sessing sometimes an inexplicable appropriateness) 
 was fifty-five, tall and bony, the daughter of a Rear- 
 Admiral, the sister of an Archdeacon. She lived for 
 good works and by gossip. Mina's sovereign (foreign- 
 ers will not grasp the cheap additional handsome- 
 ness of a guinea) duly disbursed, conversation became 
 general — that is to say, they talked about their neigh- 
 bors. 
 
 " A hard young man," said Miss S. (Why be more 
 genteel than her friends?) " And if Janie Iver thinks 
 he's in love with her " 
 
 " What do you mean by being in love. Miss Swin- 
 kerton?" 
 
 Miss Swinkerton had always been rather surprised, 
 not to say hurt, when the Catechism asked for an ex- 
 planation of what she meant by the Lord's Prayer. 
 This question of Mina's was still more uncalled for. 
 
 " You know enough English, my dear " 
 
 " It's not a question of English," interrupted Mina, 
 " but of human nature, Miss Swinkerton." 
 
 " When T was a girl there were no such questions." 
 
 " What about Lady Tristram, then? " 
 
 [107]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 There was flattery in this, ten or fifteen years of 
 flattery. Miss S. was unmoved. 
 
 " I am happy to say that Lady Tristram never called 
 at Seaview." Miss S.'s house was called Seaview — 
 Sea-Backview would have been a more precise de- 
 scription. 
 
 " I call him in love with Janie Iver. He must want 
 to marry her or " 
 
 " They do say that money isn't very plentiful at 
 Blent. And there'll be the Death Duties, you know." 
 
 " What are they ? " asked Mina. 
 
 " Like stamps," explained Miss S., vaguely. " For 
 my part, I think it's lucky he is what he is. There's 
 been enough of falling in love in the Tristram family. 
 If you ask me who is in love with her, of course it's 
 poor young Broadley. Well, you know that, as you're 
 always driving up to Mingham with her." 
 
 " We've only been three or four times, Miss Sw'm- 
 kerton." 
 
 " Six, I was told," observed Miss S., with an air of 
 preferring accuracy. " Oh, I should be very pleased 
 to see him married to Janie — Mr Tristram, I mean, of 
 course — but she mustn't expect too much, my dear. 
 Where's your uncle? " 
 
 " At Fairholme, I expect," answered the Imp de- 
 murely. As a matter of fact the Major had gone to 
 Exeter on a business errand. 
 
 " Fairholme? " Miss S.'s air was significant, Mina's 
 falsehood rewarded. Mina threw out a smile; her 
 visitor's pursed lips responded to it. 
 
 " He goes there a lot," pursued Mina, " to play golf 
 with Mr Iver." 
 
 " So I've heard." Her tone put the report in its 
 proper place. To play golf indeed ! 
 
 " I think Janie's rather fond of Mr Tristram, any- 
 how." This was simply a feeler on Mina's part. 
 
 [io8]
 
 The Man in Possession 
 
 " Well, my dear, the position ! Blent's been under 
 a cloud — though people don't seem to mind that much 
 nowada3'S, to be sure. But the new Lady Tristram ! 
 They've always been the heads of the neighborhood. 
 She'll have him, no doubt, but as for being in love with 
 him — well, could you, Madame Zabriska?" 
 
 " Yes," said the Imp, without the least hesitation. 
 " I think he's most attractive — mysterious, you know. 
 I'm quite taken with him." 
 
 " He always looks at me as if I wanted to pick his 
 pocket." 
 
 " Well, you generally do — for your charities." The 
 laugh was confined to Mina herself. " But I know the 
 manner you mean." 
 
 "Poor young man! I'm told he's very sensitive 
 about his mother. That's it perhaps." The guess was 
 at all events as near as gossip generally gets to truth. 
 " It would make him a very uncomfortable sort of hus- 
 band though, even if one didn't mind having that kind 
 of story in the family." 
 
 With a flash of surprise — really she had not been 
 thinking about herself, in spite of her little attempts 
 to mystify Miss S. — Mina caught that lady indulging 
 in a very intent scrutiny of her, which gave an obvious 
 point to her last words and paved the way (as it ap- 
 peared in a moment) for a direct approach to the prin- 
 cipal object of Miss S.'s visit. That this object did 
 not come to the front till Miss S. was on her feet to go 
 was quite characteristic. 
 
 " I'm really glad, my dear," she observed, hanging 
 her silk bag on her arm, " to have had this talk with 
 you. They do say such things, and now I shall be 
 able to contradict them on the best authority." 
 
 "What do they say?" 
 
 " Well, I never repeat things ; still I think perhaps 
 you've a right to know. They do say that you're more 
 
 [109]
 
 Tristram (9/^ Blent 
 
 interested in Harry Tristram than a mere neighbor 
 would be, and — well, really, I don't quite know how to 
 put it." 
 
 " Oh, I do ! " cried Mina, delightedly hitting the 
 mark. " That uncle and I are working together, I 
 suppose? " 
 
 " I don't hsten to such gossip, but it comes to my 
 ears," Miss S. admitted. 
 
 " What diplomatists we are ! " said the Imp. " I 
 didn't know we were so clever. But why do I take 
 Janie to Mingham ? " 
 
 " They'd say that Bob Broadley's no real danger, 
 and if it should disgust Harry Tristram " 
 
 " I am clever ! Dear Miss Swinkerton, I never 
 thought of anything half so good myself. I'll tell 
 uncle about it directly." 
 
 Miss S. looked as her suspiciously. The innocence 
 seemed very much over-done. 
 
 " I knew you'd laugh at it," she observed. 
 
 " I should do that even if it was true," said Mina, 
 thoroughly enjoying herself. 
 
 Miss S. took her leave, quite undecided whether to 
 announce on the best authority that the idea was true, 
 or that it was quite unfounded. One thing only was 
 certain ; whatever she decided to say, she would say 
 on the best authority. If it turned out incorrect in the 
 end, Miss S. would take credit for an impenetrable 
 discretion and an unswerving loyalty to the friends 
 who had given her their confidence. 
 
 Mina was left very unquiet. Miss S. chimed in with 
 the Major; the neighborhood too seemed in the same 
 tune. She could laugh at the ingenuities attributed 
 to her, yet the notions which had given them birth 
 found, as she perceived more and more clearly, a war- 
 rant in her feelings, if not in her conduct. Look at it 
 how she would, she was wrapped up in Harry Tris- 
 
 [iio]
 
 The Man in Possession 
 
 tram ; she spent her days watching his fortunes, any 
 wakeful hour of the night found her occupied in think- 
 ing of him. Was she a traitor to her friend Janie Iver? 
 Was that treachery bringing her back, by a round- 
 about way, to a new aUiance with her uncle? Did it 
 involve treason to Harry himself? For certainly it 
 was hard to go on helping him toward a marriage with 
 Janie Iver. 
 
 " But I will all the same if he wants it," she ex- 
 claimed, as she paced about on the terrace, glanc- 
 ing now and then down at Blent. And again she 
 stood aghast at the thorough-going devotion which 
 such an attitude as that implied. " If only I could 
 keep out of things ! " she murmured. " But I never 
 can." 
 
 . Major Duplay drove up the hill in a Blentmouth 
 station fly ; he had met the doctor on the road, and 
 the news was that in all probability Lady Tristram 
 would not live out the night. The tidings gained 
 added solemnity from Duplay 's delivery • of them, 
 even though a larger share of his impressiveness was 
 directed to the influence the event might have on his 
 fortunes than to the event itself. 
 
 " Then we shall see. He'll assume the title, I sup- 
 pose. That's no afTair of mine. And then he'll go to 
 Fairholme. That is." He turned suddenly, almost 
 threateningly, upon her. " I hope you've come to 
 your senses, Mina," said he. " You'll have to speak, 
 you know. If I can't make you, Iver will." He paused 
 and laughed. " But you'll speak fast enough when 
 you find yourself in the lawyer's office." 
 
 Mina refused to be frightened by the threatened 
 terrors of the law. 
 
 " Who's going to take me to a lawyer's office? " she 
 demanded. 
 
 " Why, Iver will, of course." He showed con- 
 
 [III]
 
 Tristram ^Blent 
 
 temptuous surprise. " Oh, you've gone too far to 
 think you can get out of it now." 
 
 She studied him attentively for a moment or two. 
 The result was reassuring; his blustering manner hid, 
 she believed, a sinking heart. 
 
 " You can't frighten me, uncle. I've made up mv 
 mind what to do, and I shall do it." 
 
 She was not afraid of him now. She was wondering 
 how she had come to be bullied into telling her secret 
 at all, looking back with surprise to that scene in the 
 library when, with sullen obedience and childish fear, 
 she had obeyed his command to speak. Why was it 
 all dififerent now? Why was his attempt to take the 
 same line with her not only a failure, but a ridiculous 
 effort ? She knew the angry answer he would give. 
 Could she give any other answer herself? A new in- 
 fluence had come into her life. She had not ceased to 
 be afraid, but she was afraid of somebody else. A 
 domination was over her still, but it was no longer his. 
 Like some turbulent little city of old Greece, she had 
 made her revolution : the end had been to saddle her 
 with a new tyrant. There seemed no more use in 
 denying it ; the Major said it, Miss S. said it, the 
 neighborhood was all agreed. What she herself was 
 most conscious of, and most oppressed by, was a sense 
 of audacity. How dared she devote herself to Harry 
 Tristram ? He had asked nothing of her. No, but he 
 had imposed something on her. She had volunteered 
 for his service. It was indeed " women's nonsense " 
 when she spoke of him as " That Boy." 
 
 Duplay turned away from her, disheartened and dis- 
 gusted. Things looked well for the enemy. He was 
 alone with his unsupported story of a conversation 
 which Mina would not repeat, with his empty purse 
 which could supply no means of proving what he 
 said. He ran the risk of losing what chance he had 
 
 [112]
 
 The Man in Possession 
 
 of Janie Iver's favor, and he was in sore peril of com- 
 ing off second-best again in his wresthng-bout with 
 Harry Tristram. The Man in Possession was strong. 
 The perils that had seemed so threatening were pass- 
 ing away. Mina was devoted ; Neeld would be silent. 
 Who would there be who could effectively contest his 
 claim, or oust him from his place? Thus secure, he 
 would hardly need the check always by him. Yet he 
 was a cautious wary young man. There is little doubt 
 that he would still like to have the check by him, and 
 that he would take the only means of getting it. 
 
 Now that the moment had come for which all his 
 life had been a preparation, Harry Tristram had little 
 reason to be afraid. 
 
 [113]
 
 X 
 
 Behold the Heir! 
 
 ADDIE TRISTRAM died with all her old un- 
 commonness. Death was to her an end more 
 fully than it is to most; had she been herself 
 responsible for it, she could hardly have thought less 
 of any possible consequences. And it was to her such 
 a beginning as it can seldom seem. She had been liv- 
 ing in anticipation of dying, but in a sense utterly re- 
 mote from that contemplation of their latter end which 
 is enjoined on the pious. So that, together with an 
 acquiescence so complete as almost to justify her son 
 in calling it joyful, there was an expectation, nearly 
 an excitement — save that the tired body failed to sec- 
 ond the mind. She might have shown remorse, both 
 for her own acts and for the position in which she was 
 leaving Harry ; she fell in with the view he had always 
 maintained with her, that all these things had come 
 about somehow, had produced a certain state of affairs, 
 and must be made to seem as if they had done nothing 
 of the sort. During the last day or two she was de- 
 lirious at intervals ; as a precaution Harry was with 
 her then, instead of the nurse. The measure was 
 superfluous ; there was nothing on Lady Tristram's 
 mind, and when she spoke unconsciously, she spoke 
 of trifles. The few final hours found her conscious and 
 intelligent, although very weak. Just at the end a 
 curious idea got hold of her. She was a little dis- 
 tressed that the Gainsboroughs were not there ; she 
 whispered her feeling to Harry apologetically, well 
 
 [114]
 
 Behold the Heir! 
 
 remembering his objection to that branch of the 
 family, and his disinclination to have them or any oi 
 them at Blent. " Cecily ought to be here," she mur- 
 mured. Harry started a little ; he was not accustomed 
 in his own mind to concede Cecily any rights. His 
 mother's fear of offending him by the suggestion was 
 very obvious. " She'd come after you, you see, 
 
 if " she said once or twice. There did not pass 
 
 between them a word of acknowledgment that Cecily 
 ought to come before him. Yet he was left wondering 
 whether that idea, so scorned before, had not won its 
 way to her with some sudden strength — as though an 
 instinct for the true heir made itself felt in spite of all 
 her resolution and all her prejudices, and forced her to 
 do something toward recognizing the claims which 
 they were both determined to thwart. 
 
 The barest hint of this kind would have raised 
 Harry's suspicion and anger a few weeks before ; the 
 new mood which Mina Zabriska had marked in him 
 made him take it quietly now, and even affectionately. 
 For this Addie Tristram was grateful ; she had always 
 the rare grace of seeming surprised at her own power 
 over men. It was no less in keeping with her char- 
 acter and her life that the feeling she suffered under, 
 and manifested, was very easily appeased. Harry 
 promised to ask the Gainsboroughs to her funeral. 
 Addie Tristram's conscientious scruples were entirely 
 laid to rest ; with a sigh of peace she settled herself to 
 die. It was the feudal feeling, Harry decided, which 
 insisted that the family must not be ignored ; it did not 
 deny their humble position, or the gulf that separated 
 them from the succession. Yet he was vaguely 
 vexed, even while he agreed to what she wanted. 
 
 So she passed away in the full tide of the darkness of 
 night. The doctor had left her some hours before, the 
 nurse had been sent to bed, for there was nothing that 
 
 [115]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 could be done. Harry was alone with her ; he kissed 
 her when she was dead, and stood many minutes by 
 her, looking from her to the picture of her that hung 
 on the wall. A strange loneliness was on him, a loneli- 
 ness which there seemed nobody to solace. He had 
 said that Blent would not be much without his mother. 
 That was not quite right ; it was much, but different. 
 wShe had carried away with her the atmosphere of the 
 place, the essence of the life that he had lived there 
 with her. Who would make that the same to him 
 again? Suddenly he recollected that in four days he 
 was to ask Janie Iver for her answer. Say a week 
 now, for the funeral would enforce or excuse so much 
 postponement. Janie Iver would not give him back 
 the life or the atmosphere. A description of how he 
 felt, had it been related to him a year ago, would have 
 appeared an absurdity. Yet these crowding unex- 
 pected thoughts made not a hair's breadth of differ- 
 ence in what he purposed. It was only that he be- 
 came aware of an irreparable change of scene ; there 
 was to be no change in his action. He was Tristram 
 of Blent now — that he must and would remain. But 
 it was not the same Blent, and did not seem as though 
 it could be again. So much of the poetry had gone 
 out of it with Addie Tristram. 
 
 After he had left her room, he walked through the 
 house, carrying a shaded candle in his hand along the 
 dark corridors of shining oak. He bent his steps to- 
 ward the long gallery which filled all the upper floor 
 of the left wing. Here were the Valhalla and the 
 treasure-house of the Tristrams, the pictures of an- 
 cestors, the cases of precious things which the ances- 
 tors had amassed. At the end of this gallery Addie 
 Tristram had used to sit when she was well, in a large 
 high-backed arm-chair by the big window that com- 
 manded the gardens and the river. He flung the win- 
 
 [ii6]
 
 Behold the Heir! 
 
 dow open and stood looking out. The wind swished 
 in the trees and the Blent washed along leisurely. A 
 beautiful stillness was about him. It was as though 
 she were by his side, her fair head resting against the 
 old brocade cover of the arm-chair, her eyes wander- 
 ing in delighted employment round the room she had 
 loved so well. Who should sit there next? As he 
 looked now at the room, now out into the night, his 
 eyes filled suddenly with tears ; the love of the place 
 came back to him, his pride in it lived again, he would 
 keep it not only because it was his but because it had 
 been hers before him. His blood spoke strong in him. 
 Suddenly he smiled. It was at the thought that all 
 this belonged in law to ]\Iiss Cecily Gainsborough — 
 the house, the gallery, the pictures, the treasures, the 
 very chair where Addie Tristram had used to sit. 
 Every stick and stone about the place was Cecily 
 Gainsborough's, aye, and the bed of the Blent from 
 shore to shore. He had nothing at all— according to 
 law. 
 
 Well, the law must have some honor, some recogni- 
 tion, at all events. The Gainsboroughs should, as he 
 had promised, be asked to the funeral. They should 
 be invited with all honor and most formally, in the 
 name of Tristram of Blent — which, by the by was, ac- 
 cording to law, also Miss Cecily Gainsborough's. 
 Harry had no name according to law ; no more than 
 he had houses or pictures or treasures, any stick or 
 stone, or the smallest heritage in the bed of the Blent. 
 He had been son to the mistress of it all ; she was gone 
 and he was nobody — according to law. It was, after 
 all, a reasonable concession that his mother had 
 urged on him ; the Gainsboroughs ought to be asked 
 to the funeral. The last of his vexation on this score 
 died away into a sense of grim amusement at Addie 
 Tristram's wish and his own appreciation of it. He 
 
 [117]
 
 Tristram ^Blent 
 
 had no sense of danger ; Tristram liad succeeded to 
 Tristram ; all was well. 
 
 Little inclined to sleep, he went down into the gar- 
 den presently, lit his cigar, and strolled on to the 
 bridge. The night had grown clearer and some stars 
 showed in the sky ; it was nearly one o'clock. He had 
 stood where he was only a few moments when to his 
 surprise he heard the sound of a horse's hoofs on the 
 road from Blentmouth. Thinking the doctor, who 
 often did his rounds in the saddle, might have re- 
 turned, he crossed the bridge, opened the gate, and 
 stood on the high road. The rider came up in a few 
 minutes and drew rein at the sight of his figure, but, 
 as Harry did not move, made as though he would 
 ride on again with no more than the customary coun- 
 try salute of " Good-night." 
 
 "Who is it?" asked Harry, peering through the 
 darkness. 
 
 " Me — Bob Broadley," was the answer. 
 
 " You're late." 
 
 " I've been at the Club at Blentmouth. The Cricket 
 Club's Annual Dinner, you know." 
 
 " Ah, I forgot." 
 
 Bob, come to a standstill, was taking the oppor- 
 tunity of lighting his pipe. This done, he looked up at 
 the house and back to Harry rather timidly. 
 
 " Lady Tristram ? " he began. 
 
 " My mother has been dead something above an 
 hour," said Harry. 
 
 After a moment Bob dismounted and threw his 
 reins over the gatepost. 
 
 " I'm sorry, Tristram," he said, holding out his 
 hand. " Lady Tristram was always very kind to me. 
 Indeed she was that to everybody." He paused a 
 moment and then went on slowly. " It must seem 
 strange to you. Why, I remember when my father 
 
 [ii8]
 
 Behold the Heir! 
 
 died I felt — besides the sorrow, you know — sort of lost 
 at coming into my bit of land at Mingham. But 
 
 you " Harry could see his head turn as he looked 
 
 over the demesne of Blent and struggled to give some 
 expression to the thoughts which his companion's 
 position suggested. The circumstances of this meet- 
 ing made for sincerity and openness ; they were 
 always Bob's characteristics. Harry too was in such 
 a mood that he liked Bob to stay and talk a little. 
 
 They fell into talk with more ease and naturalness 
 than they had recently achieved together, getting 
 back to the friendliness of boyhood, although Bob still 
 spoke as to one greater than himself and infused a 
 little deference into his manner. But they came to 
 nothing intimate till Bob had declared that he must 
 be on his way and was about to mount his horse. 
 
 " As soon as I begin to have people here, I hope 
 you'll come often," said Harry, cordially. " Naturally 
 we shall be a little more lively than we've been able 
 to be of late, and I shall hope to see all my friends." 
 
 He did not instantly understand the hesitation in 
 Bob's manner as he answered, " You're very kind. I 
 — I shall like to come." 
 
 " Blent must do its duty," Harry pursued. 
 
 Bob turned back to him, leaving his horse again. 
 " Yes, I'll come. I hope I know how to take a licking, 
 Tristram." He held out his hand. 
 
 "A licking?" Both the word and the gesture 
 seemed to surprise Harry Tristram. 
 
 " Oh, you know what I mean. You're engaged to 
 her, aren't you? Or as good as anyhow? I don't 
 want to ask questions " 
 
 " Not even as good as, yet," answered Harry slowly. 
 
 " Of course you know what I feel. Everybody 
 knows that, though I've never talked about it — even 
 to her."
 
 Tristraa/t ^ Blent 
 
 "Why not to her? Isn't that rather usual in such 
 cases? " Harry was smiHng now. 
 
 " It would only worry her. What chance should I 
 have?" 
 
 " Well, I don't agree with being too humble." 
 
 " Oh, I don't know that I'm humble. Perhaps I 
 think myself as good a man as you. But " — he 
 laughed a little — " I'm Broadley of Mingham, not 
 Tristram of Blent." 
 
 " I see. That's it ? And our friend the Major ? " 
 
 " I shouldn't so much mind having a turn-up with 
 the Major." 
 
 " But Tristram of Blent is — is too much?" 
 
 " It's not your fault, you can't help it," smiled Bob. 
 " You're born to it and " He ended with a shrug. 
 
 " You're very fond of her? " Harry asked, frowning 
 a little. 
 
 " I've been in love with her all my life — ever since 
 they came to Seaview. Fairholme wasn't dreamed of 
 then." 
 
 He spoke of Fairholme with a touch of bitterness 
 which he hastened to correct by adding — " Of course 
 I'm glad of their good luck." 
 
 " You mean, if it were Seaview still and not Fair- 
 holme ?" 
 
 " No, I don't. I've no business to think anything 
 of the sort, and I don't think it," Bob interposed 
 quickly. " You asked me a question and I answered 
 it. I'm not in a position to know anything about you, 
 and I'm not going to say anything." 
 
 " A good many reasons enter into a marriage some- 
 times," remarked Harry. 
 
 " Yes, with people like you. I know that." 
 
 His renewed reference to Harry's position brought 
 another frown to Harry's face, but it was the frown 
 of thoughtfulness, not of anger. 
 
 [120]
 
 Behold the Heir! 
 
 " I can't quarrel with the way of the world, and I'm 
 sure if it does come off you'll be good to her." 
 
 " You think I don't care about her — about her her- 
 self?" 
 
 " I don't know, I tell you. I don't want to know. 
 I suppose you like her." 
 
 " Yes, I like her." He took the word from Bob and 
 made no attempt to alter or to amplify it. 
 
 Bob was mounting now ; the hour was late for him 
 to be abroad and work waited him in the morning. 
 
 " Good-night, Tristram," he said, as he settled in 
 his saddle. 
 
 " Good-night. And, Bob, if by any chance it doesn't 
 come off with me, you have that turn-up with the 
 Major ! " 
 
 " Well, I don't hke the idea of a foreign chap com- 
 ing down and But, mind you, Duplay's a very 
 
 superior fellow. He knows the deuce of a lot." 
 
 " Thinks he does, anyhow," said Harry, smiling 
 again. " Good-night, old fellow," he called after Bob 
 in a very friendly voice as horse and rider disappeared 
 up the road. 
 
 " I must go to bed, I suppose," he muttered as he re- 
 turned to the bridge and stood leaning on the para- 
 pet. He yawned, not in weariness but in a reaction 
 from the excitement of the last few days. His emo- 
 tional mood had passed for the time at all events ; it 
 was succeeded by an apathy that was dull without be- 
 ing restful. And in its general effect his interview with 
 Bob was vaguely vexatious in spite of its cordial char- 
 acter. It left with him a notion which he rejected but 
 could not quite get rid of — the notion that he was tak- 
 ing, or (if all were known) would be thought to be 
 taking, an unfair advantage. Bob had said he 
 was born to it and that he could not help it. If that 
 had indeed been so in the fullest possible sense, would 
 
 [121]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 he have had the notion that irritated him now? Yes, 
 he told himself; but the answer did not quite con- 
 vince. Still the annoyance was no more than a rest- 
 less suggestion of something not quite satisfactory 
 in his position, and worth mentioning only as the first 
 such feeling he had ever had. It did not trouble him 
 seriously. He smoked another cigar on the bridge 
 and then went into the house and to bed. As he un- 
 dressed it occurred to him (and the idea gave him both 
 pleasure and amusement) that he had made a sort of 
 alliance with Bob against Duplay, although it could 
 come into operation only under circumstances which 
 were very unlikely to happen. 
 
 The blinds drawn at Blent next morning told Mina 
 what had happened, and the hour of eleven found her 
 at a Committee Meeting at Miss Swinkerton's, which 
 she certainly would not have attended otherwise. As 
 it was, she wanted to talk and to hear, and the gather- 
 ing afforded a chance. Mrs Iver was there, and Mrs 
 Trumbler the vicar's wife, a meek woman, rather 
 ousted from her proper position by the energy of Miss 
 Swinkerton ; she was to manage the Bible-reading de- 
 partment, which was not nearly so responsible a task 
 as conducting the savings-bank, and did not involve 
 anything like the same amount of supervision of other 
 people's affairs. Mrs Trumbler felt, however, that on 
 matters of morals she had a claim to speak jure mariti. 
 
 " It is so sad ! " she murmured. " And Mr Trum- 
 bler found he could do so little ! He came home quite 
 distressed." 
 
 " I'm told she wasn't the least sensible of her posi- 
 tion," observed Miss S., with what looked rather like 
 satisfaction. 
 
 "Didn't she know she was dying?" asked Mina, 
 who had established her footing by a hypocritical show 
 of interest in the cottage-gardens. 
 
 [122]
 
 Behold the Heir! 
 
 " Oh, yes, she knew she was dying, my dear," said 
 Miss S. What poor Lady Tristram might have 
 known, but apparently had not, was left to an obvious 
 inference. 
 
 '' She was very kind," remarked Mrs Iver. " Not 
 exactly actively, you know, but if you happened to 
 come across her." She rose as she spoke and bade 
 Miss S. farewell. That lady did not try to detain her, 
 and the moment the door had closed behind her re- 
 marked : 
 
 " Of course Mrs Iver feels in a delicate position and 
 can't say anything about Lady Tristram; but from 
 what I hear she never realized the peculiarity of her 
 position. No (this to Mrs Trumbler), I mean in the 
 neighborhood, Mrs Trumbler. And the young man is 
 just the same. But I should have liked to hear that 
 Mr Trumbler thought it came home to her at the 
 last." 
 
 Mr Trumblcr's wife shook her head gently. 
 
 " Well, now we shall see, I suppose," Miss S. pur- 
 sued. " The engagement is to be made public directly 
 after the funeral." 
 
 Mina almost started at this authoritative announce- 
 ment. 
 
 " And I suppose they'll be married as soon as they 
 decently can. I'm glad for Janie Iver's sake — not that 
 I like him, the little I've seen of him." 
 
 " We never see him," said Mrs Trumbler. 
 
 " Not at church, anyhow," added Miss S. incisively. 
 " Perhaps he'll remember what's due to his position 
 now." 
 
 " Are you sure they're engaged ? " asked Mina. 
 
 Miss S. looked at her with a smile. " Certain, my 
 dear." 
 
 " How? " asked Mina. Mrs Trumbler stared at her 
 in surprised rebuke. 
 
 [123]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " When I make a mistake, it will be time to ask 
 questions," observed Miss S. with dignity. '* For the 
 present you may take what I say. I can wait to be 
 proved right, Madame Zabriska." 
 
 " I've no doubt you're right ; only I thought Janie 
 would have told me," said Mina ; she had no wish to 
 quarrel with Miss S. 
 
 " Janie Tver's very secretive, my dear. She always 
 was. I used to talk to Mrs Iver about it when she was 
 
 a little girl. And in your case " Miss S.'s smile 
 
 could only refer to the circumstance that Mina was 
 Major Duplay's niece ; the Major's manoeuvres had 
 not escaped Miss S.'s eye. " Of course the funer- 
 al will be very quiet," Miss S. continued. " That 
 avoids so many difficulties. The people who would 
 come and the people who wouldn't — and all that, you 
 know." 
 
 " There are always so many questions about fu- 
 nerals," sighed Mrs Trumbler. 
 
 " I hate funerals," said Mina. " I'm going to be 
 cremated." 
 
 " That may be very well abroad, my dear," said Miss 
 S. tolerantly, " but you couldn't here. The question 
 is, will Janie Iver go — and if she does, where will she 
 walk ? " 
 
 " Oh, I should hardly think she'd go, if it's not an- 
 nounced, you know," said Mrs Trumbler. 
 
 " It's sometimes done, and I'm told she would walk 
 just behind the family.'' 
 
 Mina left the two ladies debating this point of 
 etiquette, Miss S. showing some deference to Mrs 
 Trumbler's experience in this particular department, 
 but professing to be fortified in her own view by the 
 opinion of an undertaker with a wide connection. She 
 reflected, as she got into her pony carriage, that it is 
 impossible even to die without affording a good deal 
 
 [124]
 
 Behold the Heir! 
 
 of pleasure to other people — surely a fortunate feature 
 of the world ! 
 
 On her way home she stopped to leave cards at 
 Blent, and was not surprised when Harry Tristram 
 came out of his study, having seen her through the 
 window, and greeted her. 
 
 " Send your trap home and walk up the hill with 
 me," he suggested, and she fell in with his wish very 
 readily. They crossed the foot-bridge together. 
 
 " I've just been writing to ask my relations to the 
 funeral," he said. " At my mother's wish, not mine. 
 Only two of them — and I never saw them in my 
 hfe." 
 
 " I shouldn't think you'd cultivate your relations 
 much." 
 
 " No. But Cecily Gainsborough ought to come, I 
 suppose. She's my heir." 
 
 Mina turned to him with a gesture of interest or 
 surprise. 
 
 " Your heir? " she said. " You mean ? " 
 
 " I mean that if I died without having any children, 
 she'd succeed me. She'd be Lady Tristram in her own 
 right, as my mother was." He faced round and 
 looked at Blent. " She's never been to the place or 
 seen it yet," he added. 
 
 " How intensely interested she'll be! " 
 
 " I don't see why she should," said Harry rather 
 crossly. " It's a great bore having her here at all, and 
 if I'm barely civil to her that's all I shall manage. 
 They won't stay more than a few days, I suppose." 
 After a second he went on : " Her mother wouldn't 
 know my mother, thougli after her death the father 
 wanted to be reconciled." 
 
 " Is that why you dislike them so ? " 
 
 " How do you know I dislike them ? " he asked, 
 seeming surprised. 
 
 [125]
 
 Tristram oJ" Blent 
 
 " It's pretty evident, isn't it ? And it would be a 
 good reason for disliking the mother anyhow." 
 
 " But not the daughter? " 
 
 " No, and you seem to dislike the daughter too — 
 which isn't fair." 
 
 " Oh, I take the family in the lump. And I don't 
 know that what we've been talking of has anything to 
 do with it." 
 
 He did not seem inclined to talk more about the 
 Gainsboroughs, though his frown told her that some- 
 thing distasteful was still in his thoughts. What he 
 had said was enough to rouse in her a great interest 
 and curiosity about this girl who was his heir. Ques- 
 tions and rights attracted her mind very little till they 
 came to mean people ; then she was keen on tlTe track 
 of the human side of the matter. The girl whom he 
 chose to call his heir was really the owner of Blent ! 
 
 " Are you going to ask us to the funeral ? " she said. 
 
 " I'm not going to ask anybody. The churchyard 
 is free ; they can come if they like." 
 
 " I shall come. Shall you disUke my coming? " 
 
 " Oh, no." He was undisguisedly indifferent and 
 almost bored. 
 
 " And then I shall see Cecily Gainsborough." 
 
 " Have a good look at her. You'll not have another 
 chance — at Blent anyhow. She'll never come here 
 again." 
 
 She looked at him in wonder, in a sort of fear. 
 
 " How hard you are sometimes," she said. " The 
 poor girl's done nothing to you." 
 
 He shook his head impatiently and came to a stand 
 on the road. 
 
 " You're going back ? Good-by, Lord Tristram." 
 
 " I'm not called that till after the funeral," he told 
 her, looking as suspicious as he had in the earliest 
 davs of their acquaintance. 
 
 [126]
 
 Behold the Heir! 
 
 " And will you let me go on living at Merrion — or 
 coming every summer anyhow ? " 
 
 " Do you think of coming again ? " 
 
 " I want to," she answered with some nervousness 
 in her manner. 
 
 " And Major Duplay ? " He smiled slightly. 
 
 " I don't know whether he would want. Should 
 you object? " 
 
 " Oh, no," said Harry, again with the weary in- 
 difference that seemed to have fastened on him now. 
 
 " I've been gossiping," she said, " with Mrs Trum- 
 bler and Miss Swinkerton." 
 
 " Good Lord ! " 
 
 " Miss Swinkerton says your engagement to Janie 
 will be announced directly after the funeral." 
 
 " And Major Duplay says that directly it's an- 
 nounced ! " 
 
 " You don't mean to tell me anything about it? " 
 
 " Really, I don't see why I should. Well, if you like 
 — I want to marry her." 
 
 Mina had really known this well for a long while, 
 yet she did not like to hear it. She had been spinning 
 fancies about the man ; what he had in his mind for 
 himself was very prosaic. At least it seemed so to her 
 — though she would have appreciated the dramatic side 
 of it, had he told her of his idea of living with the big 
 check by him. 
 
 " I can't help thinking that somehow you'll do some- 
 thing more exciting than that." 
 
 "She won't marry me?" He w^as not looking at 
 her, and he spoke rather absently. 
 
 " I don't suppose she'll refuse you, but — no, I've 
 just a feeling. I can't explain." 
 
 " A feeling? What feeling? " He was irritable, but 
 hfs attention was caught again. 
 
 " That something morc's waiting for you." 
 
 [127]
 
 Tristram <?/^ Blent 
 
 " That it's my business to go on affording you 
 amusement perhaps ? " 
 
 Mina glanced at him ; he was smihng ; he had be- 
 come good-tempered. 
 
 " Oh, I don't expect you to do it for that reason, but 
 if you do it " 
 
 " Do what ? " he asked, laughing outright. 
 
 " I don't know. But if you do, I shall be there to 
 see — looking so hard at you, Mr Tristram." She 
 paused, and then added, " I should like Cecily Gains- 
 borough to come into it too." 
 
 " Confound Cecily Gainsborough ! Good-by/' said 
 Harry. 
 
 He left with her two main impressions ; the first 
 was that he had not the least love for the girl whom 
 he meant to marry ; the second that he hardly cared 
 to deny to her that he hated Cecily Gainsborough be- 
 cause she was the owner of Blent. 
 
 " All the same," she thought, " I suppose he'll 
 marry Janic, and I'm certain he'll keep Blent." Yet 
 he seemed to take no pleasure in his prospects and just 
 at this moment not much in his possessions. Mina 
 was puzzled, but did not go so far wrong as to con- 
 ceive him conscience-stricken. She concluded that she 
 must wait for light. 
 
 [128]
 
 XI 
 
 A Phantom by the Pool 
 
 IN a quite little street running between the Fulham 
 and the King's Road, in a row of small houses not 
 yet improved out of existence, there was one house 
 smallest of all, with the smallest front, the smallest 
 back, and the smallest garden. The whole thing was 
 almost impossibly small, a peculiarity properly re- 
 flected in the rent which Mr Gainsborough paid to 
 the firm of Sloyd, Sloyd, and Gurney for the fag-end 
 of a long lease. He did some professional work for 
 Sloyds from time to time, and that member of the firm 
 who had let Merrion Lodge to Mina Zabriska was on 
 friendly terms with him ; so that perhaps the rent was 
 a little lower still than it would have been otherwise ; 
 even trifling reductions counted as important things 
 in the Gainsborough Ikidget. Being thus small, the 
 house was naturally full ; the three people who lived 
 there were themselves enough to account for that. 
 But it was also unnaturally full by reason of Mr Gains- 
 borough's habit of acquiring old furniture of no value, 
 and new bric-a-brac whose worth could be expressed 
 only by minus signs. These things flooded floors and 
 walls, and overflowed on to the strip of gravel behind. 
 From time to time many of them disappeared ; there 
 were periodical revolts on Cecily's part, resulting m 
 clearances ; the gaps were soon made good by a fresh 
 influx of the absolutely undesirable. When Sloyd 
 came he looked round with a professional desi)air that 
 there was not a thing in the place which would fetch 
 
 [129]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 a sovereign ! Such is the end of seeking beauty on an 
 empty purse ; some find a pathos in it, but it is more 
 generally regarded as a folly in the seeker, a wrong to 
 his dependents, and a nuisance to his friends. 
 
 In no other way could Gainsborough — Melton John 
 Gainsborough, Architect — be called a nuisance, unless 
 by Harry Tristram's capricious pleasure. For he was 
 very unobtrusive, small like his house, lean like his 
 purse, shabby as his furniture, humbler than his bric- 
 a-brac. He asked very little of the world; it gave 
 him half, and he did not complain. He was never 
 proud of anything, but he was gratified by his honor- 
 able descent and by his alliance with the Tristrams. 
 The family instinct was very strong in him. Among 
 the rubbish he bought somebody else's pedigree was 
 often to be found. His wife's hung framed on the 
 wall (ending with " Adelaide Louisa Aimee " in large 
 letters for one branch, and " Cecily " in small for the 
 other) ; his own was the constant subject of unprofit- 
 able searchings in county histories — one aspect of 
 his remarkable genius for the unremunerative in all 
 its respectable forms. He worked very hard and gave 
 the impression of doing nothing — and the impression 
 perhaps possessed the higher truth. Anyhow, while 
 he and his had (thanks to a very small property which 
 came with the late Mrs Gainsborough) always just 
 enough to eat, they had always just not enough of 
 anything else ; short commons were the rule. 
 
 And now they were going to Blent. Sloyd, call- 
 ing on a matter of business and pleasantly excusing 
 his intrusion by the payment of some fees, had heard 
 about it from Gainsborough. " This'll just take us to 
 Blent ! " the little gentleman had observed with satis- 
 faction as he waved the slip of paper. Sloyd knew 
 Blent and could take an interest ; he described it, rais- 
 ing his voice so that it travelled beyond the room and 
 
 [130J
 
 A Phantom by the Pool 
 
 reached the hammock in the garden where Cecily lay. 
 She liked a hammock, and her father could not stand 
 china figures and vases on it, so that it secured her 
 where to lay her head. Gainsborough was very fussy 
 over the news ; a deeper but quieter excitement 
 glowed in Cecily's eyes as, listening to Sloyd, she 
 feigned to pay no heed. She had designs on the check. 
 Beauty unadorned may mean several things ; but 
 moralists cannot be right in twisting the commenda- 
 tion of it into a eulogium on thread-bare frocks. She 
 must have a funeral frock. 
 
 Sloyd came to the door which opened on the gar- 
 den, and greeted her. He was as smart as usual, his 
 tie a new creation, his hat mirroring the sun. Cecily 
 was shabby from necessity and somewhat touzled 
 from lolling in the hammock. She looked up at him, 
 smiling in a lazy amusement. 
 
 "Do you ever wear the same hat twice?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " Must have a good hat in my profession, Miss 
 Gainsborough. You never know where you'll be sent 
 for. The Duchess of This, or L.ady That, loses her 
 money at cards — or the Earl drops a bit at New- 
 market — must let the house for the season — sends oflf 
 for me — mustn't catch me in an old hat ! " 
 
 "Yes, I see!" 
 
 " Besides, you may say what you like, but a gentle- 
 man ought to wear a good hat. It stamps him, Miss 
 Gainsborough." 
 
 " Yours positively illuminates you. I could find the 
 way by you on the darkest night." 
 
 " With just a leetle touch of oil " he admitted 
 
 cautiously, not cjuite sure how far she was serious in 
 the admiration her eyes seemed to express. " What 
 have you been doing with yourself? " he asked, break- 
 ing off after his sufficient confession. 
 
 [131]
 
 Tristram ^" Blent 
 
 " I've been drawing up advertisements of my own 
 accomplishments." She sat up suddenly. " Oh, why 
 didn't I ask you to help me? You'd have made me 
 sound eligible and desirable, and handsome and spa- 
 cious, and all the rest of it. And I found nothing at all 
 to say ! " 
 
 " What are you advertising for?" 
 
 " Somebody who knows less French than I do. But 
 I shall wait till we come back now." She yawned 
 a little. " I don't in the least want to earn my living, 
 you know," she added candidly, " and there's no way 
 I could honestly. I don't really know any French at 
 all." 
 
 Sloyd regarded her with mingled pleasure and pain. 
 His taste was for more robust beauty and more strik- 
 ing raiment, and she — no, she was not neat. Yet he 
 decided that she would, as he put it, pay for dressing ; 
 she wanted some process analogous to the thorough 
 repair which he loved to see applied to old houses. 
 Then she would be attractive — not his sort, of course, 
 but still attractive. 
 
 " I wonder if you'll meet Madame Zabriska, the lady 
 I let Merrion Lodge to, and the gentleman with her, 
 her uncle." 
 
 " I expect not. My cousin invites us for the funeral. 
 It's on Saturday. I suppose we shall stay the Sunday, 
 that's all. And I don't suppose we shall see anybody, 
 to speak to, anyhow." Her air was very careless ; the 
 whole thing was represented as rather a bore. 
 
 *' You should make a longer visit — I'm sure his 
 lordship will be delighted to have you, and it's a 
 charming neighborhood, a very desirable neighbor- 
 hood indeed." 
 
 " I dare say. But desirable things don't generally 
 come our way, Mr Sloyd, or at any rate not much of 
 them." 
 
 [132]
 
 A Phantom by the Pool 
 
 " It's pretty odd to think it'd all be yours if — if any- 
 thing happened to Lord Tristram." His tone showed 
 a mixture of amusement and awe. She was what he 
 saw — she might become My Lady ! The incongruity 
 reached his sense of humor, \vhile her proximity to a 
 noble status nearly made him take off his hat. 
 
 " It may be pretty odd," she said indolently, " but it 
 doesn't do me much good, does it? " 
 
 This last remark summed up the attitude which 
 Cecily had always adopted about Blent, and she chose 
 to maintain it now that she was at last to see Blent. 
 Probably her father's family instinct had driven her 
 into an insincere opposition ; or she did not consider it 
 dignified to show interest in relatives who had shown 
 none in her. She had never been asked to Blent. If 
 she was asked now it was as a duty ; as a duty she 
 would go. Harry did not monopolize the Tristram 
 blood or the Tristram pride. But this attitude was not 
 very comprehensible to her present companion. As a 
 personal taste, Mr Sloyd would have liked to be con- 
 nected, however remotely, with the aristocracy, and, 
 if he had been, would have let his social circle hear a 
 good deal about it ; even a business connection was 
 something, and suffered no loss of importance in his 
 practised hands. 
 
 Yet in her heart she was on fire with an excitement 
 which Sloyd would have wondered at, and which 
 made her father's fussy nervousness seem absurd. At 
 last she was to see with her eyes the things she had 
 always heard of. She was to see Blent. Addie Tris- 
 tram indeed she could no longer see ; that had always 
 been denied to her, and the loss was irreparable. But 
 even the dead Lady Tristram she would soon be able 
 to realize far better than she had yet done ; she would 
 put her into her surroundings. And Harry would be 
 there, the cousin who had never been cousinly, the 
 
 [133]
 
 Tristram <?/ Blent 
 
 young man whom she did not know and who was a 
 factor of such importance in her Hfe. She had dreams 
 in abundance about the expedition ; and it was in vain 
 that reason said " It'll be all over in three days. Then 
 back to the little house and the need for that advertise- 
 ment ! " Luckily, this sort of suggestion, made by 
 reason, never sounds probable, however well reason 
 proves to us that it must come to pass. Cecily was 
 sure that at last — ah, at last ! — a change in life had 
 come. Life had been always so very much the same ; 
 changes generally need money, and money had not 
 been hers. Knowledge usually needs money too, and 
 of the kinds of life outside her own narrow sphere she 
 was very ignorant. Beautiful things also need money ; 
 of them she had seen and enjoyed very little ; only 
 the parodies came to the small house in the small 
 road. All these things joined to make her feel that a 
 great moment was at hand ; she might and did deride 
 herself, but the feeling was there, and at last she ad- 
 mitted it to her father when she said with a little laugh : 
 
 " I don't suppose anybody ever was so excited over 
 a funeral before ! " 
 
 But perhaps there was ignorance in that remark too. 
 It has been seen, for instance, that Miss Swinkerton 
 and her friends could be very excited, although they 
 had not the excuse of youth, of dreams, or of any kin- 
 ship with the Tristrams. 
 
 " It's begun ! " Cecily said to herself when, three 
 days afterward, they got out of their third-class car- 
 riage and got into the landau that waited for them. 
 The footman, touching his hat, asked if Miss Gains- 
 borough had brought a maid. (" The maid," not " A 
 maid," was the form of reference familiar to Miss 
 Gainsborough.) Her father was in new black, she 
 was in new black, the two trunks had been well 
 polished; and the seats of the landau were very soft. 
 
 [134]
 
 A Phantom by the Pool 
 
 " They don't use the Fitzhubert crest, I observe," 
 remarked Gainsborough. " Only the Tristram fox. 
 Did you notice it on the harness? " 
 
 " I was gazing with all my eyes at the coronet on 
 the panel," she answered, laughing. 
 
 A tall and angular lady came up and spoke to the 
 footman, as he was about to mount the box. 
 
 " At two on Saturday, miss," they heard him reply. 
 Miss Swinkerton nodded, and walked slowly past the 
 carriage, giving the occupants a leisurely stare. Of 
 course Miss S. had known the time of the funeral 
 quite well ; now her intimates would be made equally 
 well acquainted with the appearance of the visitors. 
 
 Blent was in full beauty that summer evening, and 
 the girl sat in entranced silence as they drove by the 
 river and came where the old house stood. The 
 blinds w^ere down, the escutcheon, with the Tristram 
 fox again, above the door in the central tower. They 
 were ushered into the library. Gainsborough's eyes 
 ran over the books with a longing envious glance ; 
 his daughter turned to the window, to look at the 
 Blent and up to Merrion. A funny remembrance of 
 Sloyd crossed her mind, and she smiled. Had she 
 already so caught the air of the place that Sloyd 
 seemed to her both remote and very plebeian ? Turn- 
 ing her head, she saw the left wing with the row of 
 windows that lighted the Long Gallery ; she had never 
 seen such a room in a private house, and thought 
 there must be several rooms in that wing. A 
 man-servant brought in tea, and told them that Mr 
 Tristram was engaged in pressing business and 
 begged to be excused ; dinner would be at 8.15. Dis- 
 appointed at her host's invisibility, she gave her father 
 tea with a languid air. The little man was nervous 
 and excited ; he walked the carpet carefully ; but soon 
 he pounced on a book — a county history — and sat 
 
 [135]
 
 Tristram ^' Blent 
 
 down with it. After a few minutes' idleness Cecily 
 rose, strolled into the hall, and thence out into the 
 garden. The hush of the house had become oppres- 
 sive to her. 
 
 Yes, everything was very beautiful ; she felt that 
 again, and drank it in, indulging her thirst so long un- 
 satisfied. She had seen larger places, such palaces 
 as all the folk of London are allowed to see. The 
 present scene was new. And in the room above lay 
 Addie Tristram in her cofifin — the lovely strange wom- 
 an of whom her mother had told her. She would not 
 see Lady Tristram, but she seemed now to see all her 
 Hfe and to be able to picture her, to understand why 
 she did the things they talked of, and what manner of 
 woman she had been. She wandered to the little 
 bridge. The stream below was the Blent! Geog- 
 raphies might treat the rivulet with scanty notice 
 and with poor respect ; to her it was Jordan — the 
 sacred river. Might not its god have been ancestor to 
 all the Tristrams? In such a place as this one could 
 have many such fancies ; they would come to feed the 
 mind and make it grow, to transform it into something 
 that could appreciate poetry. A big rose-tree climbed 
 the wall of the right wing. Who had picked its blos- 
 soms and through how many years ? Its flowers must 
 often have adorned Addie Tristram's unsurpassed 
 loveliness. After the years of short commons there 
 came this bountiful feast to her soul. She felt herself 
 a Tristram. A turn of chance might have made all this 
 her own. Her breath seemed to stop as she thought 
 of this. The idea now was far different from what 
 it had sounded when Sloyd gave it utterance in the 
 tiny strip of garden behind the tiny house, and she had 
 greeted it with scorn and a mocking smile. She did 
 not want all this for her own ; but she did want — how 
 she wanted ! — to be allowed to stop and look at it, to 
 
 [136]
 
 A Phantom by the Pool 
 
 stay long enough to make it part of her and have it to 
 carry back with her to her home between the King's 
 Road and the Fulham Road in London. 
 
 She crossed the bridge and walked up the valley. 
 Twenty minutes brought her to the Pool. It opened 
 on her with a new surprise. The sun had just left 
 it and its darkness was touched by mystery. The 
 steep wooded bank opposite cast a dull heavy shadow 
 across half the surface ; the low lapping of the water 
 sounded Hke somebody whispering old secrets that 
 she seemed half to hear, garrulous histories of the dead 
 — the dead whose blood was in her veins — old glories, 
 old scandals, old trifles, all mixed together, all of great 
 importance in the valley of the Blent. Who cares 
 about such things in London, about anybody's family, 
 or anybody himself ? There is no time for such things 
 in London. It is very different in the valley of the 
 Blent when the sun is low and the cry of a bird makes 
 a sound too shrill to be welcome. 
 
 Turning by chance to look up the road toward 
 Mingham, she saw a man coming down the hill. He 
 was sauntering idly along, beating the grass by the 
 road-side with his stick. Suddenly he stopped short, 
 put his hand above his eyes, and gave her a long look ; 
 he seemed to start. Then he began to walk toward 
 her with a rapid eager stride. She turned away and 
 strolled along by the Pool on her way back to Blent 
 Hall. But he would not be denied; his tread came 
 nearer ; he overtook her and halted almost by her 
 side, raising his hat and gazing with uncompromising 
 straightness in her face. She knew him at once; he 
 must be Harry Tristram. Was lounging about the 
 roads his pressing business? 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said with a curious ap- 
 pearance of agitation. " I am Harry Tristram, and 
 you must be ?" 
 
 [137]
 
 Tristram ^Blent 
 
 " Cecily Gainsborough," said she with a distant 
 manner, incHned to be offended that their meeting 
 should be by accident. Why had he not received his 
 guests if he had nothing to do but lounge about the 
 roads ? 
 
 " Yes, I was sure. The moment I thought, I was 
 sure." He took no heed of her manner, engrossed in 
 some preoccupation of his own. " At first I was 
 startled." He smiled now, as he offered her his hand. 
 Then he recollected. " You must forgive me for being 
 out. I have been hard at work all day, and the craving 
 for the evening was on me. I went out without think- 
 ing." 
 
 " They said you were engaged on pressing busi- 
 ness." 
 
 " They lied for me. I forgot to leave any message. 
 I'm not generally discourteous." 
 
 His apology disarmed her and made her resentment 
 seem petty. 
 
 " How could you think of us at such a time ? It's 
 good of you to have us at all." 
 
 " My mother wanted you to come." He added no 
 welcome of his own. " You never saw her, did you ? " 
 he asked a moment later. 
 
 Cecily shook her head. She was rather confused by 
 the steady gaze of his eyes. Did Cousin Harry always 
 stare at people as hard as that ? Yet it was not exactly 
 a stare ; it was too thoughtful, too ruminative, too 
 unconscious for that. 
 
 " Let's walk back together. You've had a look at 
 the place already perhaps?" 
 
 " It's very beautiful." 
 
 " Yes," he assented absently, as they began to walk. 
 
 If she did not stare, still she used her eyes, curi- 
 ously studying his face with its suggestion of strength 
 and that somehow rather inconsistent hint of sensitive- 
 
 [138]
 
 A Phantom by the Pool 
 
 ness. He was gloomy ; that was just now only 
 proper. She saw something that puzzled her; Mina 
 Zabriska could have told her what it was, but she her- 
 self did not succeed in identifying Harry's watching 
 look. She was merely puzzled at a certain shade of 
 expression in the eyes. She had not seen it at the first 
 moment, but it was there now as he turned to her from 
 time to time while they sauntered along. 
 
 " That's Merrion, our dower-house. But it's let 
 now to a funny little woman, Madame Zabriska. She's 
 rather a friend of mine, but her uncle, who lives with 
 her, doesn't like me.'' He smiled as he spoke of the 
 Major. " She's very much interested in you." 
 
 " In me? Has she heard of me?" 
 
 " She hears of most things. She's as sharp as a 
 needle. I like her though." 
 
 He said no more till they were back in the garden ; 
 then he proposed that they should sit down on the seat 
 by the river. 
 
 " My mother used to sit here often," he said. " She 
 always loved to see the sun go down from the garden. 
 She didn't read or do anvthing; she just sat watch- 
 ing." 
 
 " Thinking? " Cecily suggested. 
 
 " Well, hardly. Letting thoughts happen if they 
 wanted to, perhaps. She was always rather — rather 
 passive about things, you know. They took hold of 
 her if — well, as I say, if they wanted to." He turned 
 to her quickly as he asked, " Are you at all like that? " 
 
 " I believe I'm only just beginning to find out that 
 I'm anything or like anything. And, anyhow, I'm 
 quite different from what I was yesterday." 
 
 " From yesterday ? " 
 
 " Yes. Just by coming here, I think." 
 
 " That's what I mean ! Things do take hold of you 
 then?" 
 
 [139]
 
 Tristram ^Blent 
 
 " This place does apparently," she answered laugh- 
 ing-, as she leaned back on the seat, throwing her arm 
 behind her and resting her head on it. She caught 
 him looking at her again with marked and almost 
 startled intensity. He was rather strange with his 
 alternations of apparent forgetfulness and this embar- 
 rassing scrutiny. 
 
 " Tell me about yourself," he asked, or rather com- 
 manded, so brusque and direct was the request. 
 
 She told him about the small house and the small 
 life she had led in it, even about the furniture and the 
 bric-a-brac, confessing to her occasional clearances 
 and the deception she had to practise on her father 
 about them. He was very silent, but he was a good 
 listener. Soon he began to smoke, but did not ask 
 leave. This might be rudeness, but seemed a rather 
 cousinly sort of rudeness, and was readily forgiven. 
 
 " And suddenly I come to all this ! " she murmured. 
 Then with a start she added, " But I'm forgetting your 
 mother's death and what you must feel, and chattering 
 about myself ! " 
 
 " I asked you to talk about yourself. Is it such a 
 great change to come here ? " 
 
 " Immense ! To come here even for a day ! Im- 
 mense ! " She waved her hand a moment and found 
 him following it with his eyes as it moved. 
 
 " You don't look," he said slowly, " as if it was any 
 change at all." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she asked, interested in 
 what he seemed to suggest. 
 
 " You fit in," he murmured, looking up at the house 
 — at the window of Addie Tristram's room. " And 
 you're very poor?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes. And you !" 
 
 " Oh, I'm not rich as such things go. The estate 
 has fallen in value very much, you know. But " 
 
 [140]
 
 A Phantom by the Pool 
 
 He broke ofif, frowning a little. " Still we're comfort- 
 able enough," he resumed. 
 
 " I should think so. You'd always have it to look 
 at anyhow. What did you think I should be like ? " 
 
 " Anything in the world but what you are." 
 
 The tone was at once too sincere and too absent 
 for a compliment. Cecily knew herself not to be 
 plain ; but he was referring to something else than 
 that. 
 
 " In fact I hardly thought of you as an individual 
 at all. You were the Gainsboroughs." 
 
 " And you didn't like the Gainsboroughs ? " she 
 cried in a flash of intuition. 
 
 " No, I didn't," he admitted. 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " A prejudice," answered Harry Tristram after a 
 pause. 
 
 She crossed her legs, sticking one foot out in front 
 of her and looking at it thoughtfully. He followed the 
 movement and slowly broke into a smile ; it was fol- 
 lowed by an impatient shrug. With the feminine in- 
 stinct she pushed her gown lower down, half over the 
 foot. Harry laughed. She looked up, blushing and 
 inclined to be angry. 
 
 " Oh, it wasn't that," he said, laughing again rather 
 
 contemptuously. " But " He rose, took some 
 
 paces along the lawn, and then, coming back, stood 
 beside her, staring at the Blent and frowning rather 
 formidably. 
 
 " Did you see me when I first saw you by the Pool ? " 
 he asked in a moment. 
 
 " Yes. How you hurried after me ! " 
 
 Another pause followed, Harry's frown giving way 
 to a smile, but a perplexed and reluctant one. Cecily 
 watched him with puzzled interest — still sitting with 
 her foot stuck out in front of her and her head resting 
 
 [141]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 on the bend of her arm ; her eyes looked upward, and 
 her hps were just parted. 
 
 "Have I been staring at you?" he inquired ab- 
 ruptly. 
 
 " Well, yes, you have," she answered, laughing. 
 " But a strange cousin expects to be examined rather 
 carefully. Do I pass muster among the Tristrams? 
 Or am I all the hated Gainsborough ? " 
 
 He looked at her again and earnestly. She met the 
 look without lowering her eyes or altering her posi- 
 tion in any particular. 
 
 " It's too absurd ! " he declared, half fretful, half 
 amused. " You're features aren't so very much alike 
 — except the eyes, they are — and your hair's darker. 
 But you move and carry yourself and turn your head 
 as she did. And that position you're in now — why 
 I've seen her in it a thousand times ! Your arm there 
 and your foot stuck out " 
 
 His voice grew louder as he went on, his petulant 
 amusement giving way to an agitation imperfectly 
 suppressed. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she asked, catching excite- 
 ment from him. 
 
 " Why, my mother. That's her attitude, and your 
 walk's her walk, and your voice her voice. You're 
 her — all over ! Why, when I saw you by the Pool just 
 now, a hundred yards off, strolling on the bank " 
 
 "Yes?" she half-whispered. "You started, didn't 
 you?" 
 
 " Yes, I started. I thought for a moment I saw my 
 mother's ghost. I thought my mother had come back 
 to Blent. And it is — you ! " 
 
 He threw out his hands in a gesture of what seemed 
 despair. 
 
 [142]
 
 XII 
 
 Fighters and Doubters 
 
 MISS S. wasn't so far wrong after all ! " ex- 
 claimed Mina Zabriska, flinging down a 
 letter on the table by her. 
 It was three days after Addie Tristram's funeral. 
 Mina had attended that ceremony, or rather watched it 
 from a little way ofif. She had seen Gainsborough's 
 spare humble figure, she had seen too, with an acute 
 interest, the tall slim girl all in black, heavily veiled, 
 who walked beside him, just behind the new Lord 
 Tristram. She had also, of course, seen all the neigh- 
 bors who were looking on like herself, but who gave 
 their best attention to Janie Iver and disappointed 
 Miss S. by asking hardly any questions about the 
 Gainsboroughs. Little indeed would have been said 
 concerning them except for the fact that Gains- 
 borough (true to his knack of the unlucky) caught a 
 chill on the occasion and was confined to his bed down 
 at Blent. A most vexatious occurrence for Lord Tris- 
 tram, said Miss S. But one that he ought to bear 
 patiently, added Mrs Trumbler. And after all, both 
 ladies agreed, it would have been hardly decent to turn 
 the Gainsboroughs out on Monday, as it was well 
 known the new lord had proposed. 
 
 But the Gainsboroughs were not in Mina's 
 thoughts just now. 
 
 " Nothing is to be made public yet — please remem- 
 ber this. But I want you to know that I have just 
 written to Harry Tristram to say I will marry him. I 
 
 [143]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 have had a great deal of trouble, dear Mina, but I 
 think I have done right, looking at it all round. Except 
 my own people I am telling only one friend besides 
 you (' Bob Broadley!' said Mina with a nod, as she 
 read the letter the second time). But I want you to 
 know ; and please tell your uncle too. I hope you will 
 both give me your good wishes. I do think I'm acting 
 wisely; and I thought I had no right to keep him 
 waiting and worrying about this when he has so much 
 to think of besides. You must stay at Merrion after I 
 come to Blent. — Janie." 
 
 Barring the matter of the immediate announcement 
 then, Miss S. was justified. Janie had done the 
 obviously right thing — and was obviously not quite 
 sure that it was right. That mattered very little ; it 
 was done. It was for Mina Zabriska — and others con- 
 cerned — to adapt themselves and conform their actions 
 to the accomplished fact. But would Major Duplay 
 take that view? To Mina was intrusted the delicate 
 task of breaking the news to her uncle. It is the virtue 
 of a soldier not to know when he is beaten ; of a gen- 
 eral not to let others know. To what standard of mar- 
 tial conduct would the Major adhere ? This matter of 
 the Major was in every way a nuisance to his niece. 
 In the first place she wanted to think about herself and 
 her own feelings— the one luxury of the unhappy. 
 Secondly she was afraid again. For Harry suddenly 
 seemed to be no protection now, and the horrors 
 threatened by Duplay— the interrogation, the lawyer's 
 office, and the like— recovered their dreadfulness. It 
 had been easy — perhaps pleasant — to suffer for the 
 confidential friend who had opened his heart to her on 
 the hillside. It became less easy and certainly more 
 unpleasant to be sacrificed for Janie Iver's Hancc. But 
 Mina, though no longer exultant and no more fearless, 
 
 [144]
 
 Fighters and Doubters 
 
 would be loyal and constant all the same. Should she, 
 after saving others, be herself a castaway? She ex- 
 perienced a longing for the sympathy and support of 
 Mr Jenkinson Neeld. Surely he would stand firm 
 too? He was still at Fairholme, Was he included in 
 Janie's " own people "? Had he been told the news? 
 
 The delicate task ! The Imp's temper was far too 
 bad for delicacy ; she found a positive pleasure in out- 
 raging it. She took her letter, marched into the 
 smoking-room, and threw it to (not to say at) her 
 uncle. 
 
 " Read that ! " she said and strode ofif to the window 
 to have a look at Blent. The letter had succeeded, it 
 seemed, in taking away from her life all she wanted, 
 and introducing into it all she did not. 
 
 " This is very serious," declared the Major solemn- 
 ly, " very serious indeed, Mina." 
 
 " Don't see how," snapped the Imp, presenting an 
 unwavering back-view to her uncle. " If they like to 
 get married, why is it serious ? " 
 
 " Pray be reasonable," he urged. " You must per- 
 ceive that the situation I have always contem- 
 plated " 
 
 " Well, you can go on contemplating it, can't you, 
 uncle? It won't do much good, but still " 
 
 " The situation, I say, has arisen." She heard him 
 get up, walk to the hearth-rug, and strike a match. Of 
 course he was going to have a cigarette ! He would 
 smoke it all through with exasperating slowness and 
 then arrive at an odious conclusion. Mina had not been 
 married for nothing; she knew men's ways. He justi- 
 fied her forecast ; it was minutes before he spoke again. 
 
 " The terms of this letter," he resumed at last, " for- 
 tify me in my purpose. It is evident that Miss 
 Tver is influenced — largely influenced — by — cr — the 
 supposed position of — er — Mr Tristram." 
 
 [145]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 -Of who?" 
 
 " Of the present possessor of Blent." 
 
 " If you want people to know who you mean, 
 you'd better say Lord Tristram." 
 
 " For the present, if you wish it. I say, she is " 
 
 Duplay's pompous formality suddenly broke down. 
 " She's taking him for his title, that's all." 
 
 " Oh, if you choose to say things like that about 
 your friends ! " 
 
 " You know it's true. What becomes my duty 
 then?" 
 
 " I don't know and I don't care. Only I hate people 
 
 to talk about duty when they're going to " Well, 
 
 one must stop somewhere in describing one's relatives' 
 conduct. The Imp stopped there. But the sentence 
 really lost nothing; Duplay could guess pretty accu- 
 rately what she had been going to say. 
 
 Fortunately, although he was very dependent on 
 her help, he cared little about her opinion. She neither 
 would nor could judge his position fairly; she would 
 not perceive how he felt, how righteous was his anger, 
 how his friends were being cheated and he was being 
 jockeyed out of his chances by one and the same un- 
 scrupulous bit of imposture. He had brought him- 
 self round to a more settled state of mind and had got 
 his conscience into better order. If he were acting un- 
 selfishly, he deserved commendation. But even if self- 
 interest guided him he was free of blame. No man is 
 bound to let himself be swindled. He doubted seri- 
 ously of nothing now except his power to upset Harry 
 Tristram's plans. He was resolved to try ; Mina must 
 speak — and if money were needed, it must come from 
 somewhere. The mere assertion of what he meant to 
 allege must at least delay this hateful marriage. It 
 must be added — though the Major was careful not to 
 add — that it would also give Harry Tristram a very 
 
 [146]
 
 Fighters and Doubters 
 
 unpleasant shock ; the wrestHng bout by the Pool and 
 the loss of that shilling were not forgotten. It may 
 further be observed — though the Major could not be 
 expected to observe — that he had such an estimate of 
 his own attractions as led him to seize very eagerly on 
 any evidences of liking for Harry's position, rather 
 than of preference for Harry himself, which Janie's let- 
 ter might be considered to afiford. The Major, in fact, 
 had a case ; good argument made it seem a good case. 
 It is something to have a case that can be argued at 
 all ; morality has a sad habit of leaving us without a 
 leg to stand on. In the afternoon of that day Duplay 
 went down to Fairholme. Miss Swinkerton passed 
 him on the road and smiled sagaciously. Oh, if Miss 
 S. had known the truth about his errand ! A gossip m 
 ignorance has pathos as a spectacle. 
 
 Mr Neeld was still at Fairholme; he had been 
 pressed to stay and needed little pressing; in fact, in 
 default of the pressure he would probably have taken 
 lodgings in the town. He could not go away ; he had 
 seen Addie Tristram buried, and her son walking be- 
 hind the coffin, clad in his new dignity. His mind was 
 full of the situation. Yet he had shrunk from dis- 
 cussing it further with Mina Zabriska. The family 
 anxiety about Janie's love affair had been all round 
 him. Now he suspected strongly that some issue was 
 being decided upon. He ought to speak, to break his 
 word to Mina and speak — or he ought to go. From 
 day to day he meant to go and cease to accept the 
 hospitality which his silence seemed to abuse. But he 
 did not go. These internal struggles were new in his 
 placid and estimable life ; this affair of Harry Tris- 
 tram's had a way of putting people in strange and dif- 
 ficult positions. 
 
 " Mind you say nothing — nothing — nothing." That 
 sentence had reached him on the reverse side of an 
 
 [147]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 invitation to take tea at Merrion — a vague some-day- 
 when-you're-passing- sort of invitation, in Neeld's eyes 
 plainly and merely a pretext for writing and an oppor- 
 tunity of conveying the urgent little scrawl on the 
 other side. It arrived at mid-day; in the afternoon 
 Duplay had come and was now alone with Iver. 
 
 The outward calm of the gray-haired old gentleman 
 who sat on the lawn at Fairholme, holding a weekly 
 review upside down, was no index to the alarming and 
 disturbing questions which were agitating him within. 
 At the end of a blameless life it is hard to discover that 
 you must do one of two things and that, whichever 
 you do, you will feel like a villain. The news that 
 Josiah Cholderton's Journal was going o& very fairly 
 well with the trade had been unable to give its editor 
 any consolation ; he did not care about the Journal 
 now. 
 
 Iver came out and sat down beside him without 
 speaking. Neeld hastily restored his paper to a posi- 
 tion more befitting its dignity and became apparently 
 absorbed in an article on Shyness in Elephants; the 
 subject was treated with a wealth of illustration and 
 in a vein of introspective philosophy exceedingly in- 
 structive. But it was all wasted on Mr Neeld. He 
 was waiting for Iver ; no man could be so silent un- 
 less he had something important to say or to leave 
 unsaid. And Iver was not even smoking the cigar 
 which he always smoked after tea. Neeld could 
 bear it no longer ; he got up and was about to move 
 away. 
 
 " Stop, Neeld. Do you mind sitting down again for 
 a moment? " 
 
 Neeld could do nothing but comply. The review 
 fell on the ground by him and he ceased to struggle 
 with the elephants. 
 
 " I want to ask your opinion " 
 
 [148]
 
 Fighters and Doubters 
 
 "My dear Iver, my opinion! Oh, I'm not a busi- 
 ness man, and " 
 
 " It's not business. You know Major Duplay ? 
 What do you think of him ? " 
 
 " I — I've always found him very agreeable." 
 
 " Yes, so have I. And I've always thought him 
 honest, haven't you ? " 
 
 Neeld admitted that he had no reason to impugn 
 the Major's character. 
 
 " And I suppose he's sane," Iver pursued. " But 
 he's just been telling me the most extraordinary 
 thing." He paused a moment. " I dare say you've 
 noticed something between Janie and young Tris- 
 tram? I may as well tell you that she has just con- 
 sented to marry him. But I don't want to talk about 
 that except so far as it comes into the other matter — 
 which it does very considerably." He laid his hand 
 on Neeld's knee. " Neeld, Duplay came and told me 
 that Harry Tristram has no title to the peerage or to 
 Blent. I'm not going to trouble you with the details 
 now. It comes to this — Harry was born before, not 
 after, the marriage of his parents. Duplay says Mina 
 knows all about it, and will give us information that 
 will make the proof easy. That's a tolerably startling 
 story, eh ? One's prepared for something where 
 Lady Tristram was involved, but this ! " 
 
 It was fortunate that he did not glance at Neeld ; 
 Neeld had tried to appear startled, but had succeeded 
 only in looking supremely miserable. But Iver's eyes 
 were gazing straight in front of him under brows that 
 frowned heavily. 
 
 " Now, what I want you to do," he resumed, " and 
 I'm sure you won't refuse me, is this. I'm inclined to 
 dismiss the whole thing as a blunder. I believe Du- 
 play's honest, but I think certain facts in his own posi- 
 tion have led him to be too ready to believe a mere 
 
 [149]
 
 Tristram oJ B lent 
 
 yarn. But I've consented to see Mina and hear what 
 she has to say. And I said I should bring you as a 
 witness. I go to Alerrion Lodge to-morrow for this 
 purpose, and I shall rely on you to accompany me." 
 With that the cigar made its appearance ; Iver lit it 
 and lay back in his chair, frowning still in perplexity 
 and vexation. He had not asked his friend's opinion 
 but his services. It was characteristic of him not to 
 notice this fact. And the fact did nothing to relieve 
 Neeld's piteous embarrassment. 
 
 " I knew it all along; " he might say that. " 1 know 
 nothing about it ; " he might act that. Or he might 
 temporize for a little while. This was what he did. 
 
 " It would make a great difference if this were 
 true?" His voice shook, but Iver was absorbed. 
 
 " An enormous difference," said Iver (Lady Tris- 
 tram herself had once said the same). " I marry my 
 daughter to Lord Tristram of Blent or to — to whom ? 
 You'll call that snobbishness, or some people would. 
 I say it's not snobbish in us new men to consider that. 
 It's the right thing for us to do, Neeld. Other things 
 equal — if the man's a decent fellow and the girl likes 
 him — I say it's the right thing for us to do. That's 
 the way it always has happened, and the right way 
 too." 
 
 Mr Neeld nodded. He had sympathy with these 
 opinions. 
 
 " But if it's true, why, who's Harry Tristram? Oh, 
 I know it's all a fluke, a damned fluke, if you like, 
 Neeld, and uncommonly hard on the boy. But the 
 law's the law, and for my own part I'm not in favor of 
 altering it. Now do you suppose I want my daughter 
 to marry him, if it's true? " 
 
 " I suppose you wouldn't," murmured Neeld. 
 
 " And there's another thing. Duplay says Harry 
 knows it — Duplay swears he knows it. Well then, 
 
 [150]
 
 Fighters and Doubters 
 
 what's he doing? In my opinion he's practising a 
 fraud. He knows he isn't what he pretends to be. He 
 deceives me, he deceives Janie. If the thing ever 
 comes out, where is she? He's treated us very badly 
 if it's true." 
 
 The man, ordinarily so calm and quiet in his re- 
 served strength, broke out into vehemence as he 
 talked of what Harry Tristram had done if the Major's 
 tale were true. Neeld asked himself what his host 
 would say of a friend who knew the story to be true and 
 yet said nothing of it. He perceived too that although 
 Tver would not have forced his daughter's inclina- 
 tion, yet the marriage was very good in his eyes, the 
 proper end and the finest crown to his own career. 
 This had never come home to Neeld with any special 
 force before. Iver was English of the English in his 
 repression, in his habit of meeting both good and bad 
 luck with — well, with something like a grunt. But he 
 was stirred now ; the suddenness of the thing had done 
 it. And in face of his feelings how stood Mr Neeld? 
 He saw nothing admirable in how and where he stood. 
 
 " Well, we'll see Mina and hear if she's got anything 
 to say. Fancy that little monkey being drawn into 
 a thing like this ! Meanwhile we'll say nothing. I 
 don't believe it, and I shall want a lot of convincing. 
 Until I am convinced everything stands as it did. I 
 rely on you for that, Neeld — and I rely on you to come 
 to Merrion to-morrow. Not a word to my wife — 
 above all not a word to Janie ! " He got up, took pos- 
 session of Neeld's review, and walked off into the 
 house with his business-like quick stride. 
 
 Neeld sat there, slowly rubbing his hands against 
 one another between his knees. He was realizing 
 what he had done, or rather what had happened to 
 him. When his life, his years, and what he con- 
 ceived to be his character were considered, it was a 
 
 [151]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 very surprising thing, this silence of his — the conspii- 
 acy he had entered into with Mina Zabriska, the view 
 of duty which the Imp, or Harry, or the thought of 
 beautiful Addie Tristram, or all of them together, had 
 made him take. So strange a view for him ! To run 
 counter to law, to outrage good sense, to slight the 
 claims cf friendship, to suppress the truth, to aid what 
 Iver so relentlessly called a fraud — all these were 
 strange doings for him to be engaged in. And why 
 had he done it ? The explanation was as strange as the 
 things that he invoked it to explain. Still rubbing his 
 hands, palm against palm, to and fro, he said very 
 slowly, with wonder and reluctance : 
 
 " I was carried away. I was carried away by — by 
 
 romance." 
 
 The word made him feel a fool. Yet what other 
 word was there for the overwhelming unreasoning 
 feeling that at the cost of everything the Tristrams, 
 mother and son, must keep Blent, the son living and 
 the mother dead, that the son must dwell there and the 
 spirit of the mother be about him she loved in the spot 
 that she had graced ? It was very rank romance in- 
 deed — no other word for it ! And — wildest paradox — 
 it all came out of editing Josiah Cholderton's Journal. 
 
 Before he had made any progress in unravelling his 
 skein of perplexities he saw Janie coming across the 
 lawn. She took the chair her father had left and 
 seemed to take her father's mood with it ; the same 
 oppressive silence settled on her. Neeld broke it this 
 time. 
 
 " You don't look very merry, Miss Janie," he said, 
 smiling at her and achieving a plausible jocularity. 
 
 " Why should I, Mr Neeld? " She glanced at him. 
 " Oh, has father told you anything?" 
 
 " Yes, that you're engaged. You know how truly I 
 desire your happiness, my dear." With a pretty 
 
 [152]
 
 Fighters and Doubters 
 
 courtesy the old man took her hand and kissed it, bar- 
 ing his gray hair the while. 
 
 " You're very, very kind. Yes, I've promised to 
 marry Harry Tristram. Not yet, you know. And it 
 isn't to be announced. But I've promised." 
 
 He stole a glance at her, and then another. She did 
 not look merry indeed. Neeld knew his ignorance of 
 feminine things, and made guesses with proper diffi- 
 dence ; but he certainly fancied she had been crying — 
 or very near it — not so long ago. Yet the daughter of 
 William Iver was sensible and not given to silly tears. 
 
 " I think I've done right," she said — as she had said 
 when she wrote to Mina. " Everybody will be 
 pleased. Father's very pleased." Suddenly she put 
 out her hand and took hold of his, giving it a tight 
 grip. " Oh, but, Mr Neeld, I've made somebody so 
 unhappy." 
 
 "I dare say, my dear, I dare say. I was a young fel- 
 low once. I dare say." 
 
 " And he says nothing about it. He wished me joy 
 — and he does wish me joy too. I've no right to talk 
 to you, to tell you, or anything. I don't believe people 
 think girls ever mind making men unhappy ; but they 
 do." • 
 
 " If they like the men ? " This suggestion at least 
 was not too difficult for him. 
 
 " Yes, when they like them, when they're old 
 friends, you know. I only spoke to him for a moment, 
 I only just met him on the road. I don't suppose I 
 shall ever talk to him about it, or about anything in 
 particular, again." She squeezed Neeld's hand a sec- 
 ond time, and then withdrew her own. 
 
 This was unknown country again for Mr Neeld ; his 
 sense of being lost grew more acute. These were not 
 the sort of problems which had occupied his life ; but 
 they seemed now to him no less real, hardly less im- 
 
 [153]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 portant. It was only a girl wondering if she had done 
 right. Yet he felt the importance of it. 
 
 '* You can't help the unhappiness," he said. " You 
 must go to the man you love, my dear." 
 
 With a little start she turned and looked at him for 
 an instant. Then she murmured in a perfunctory 
 fashion : 
 
 " Yes, I must make the best choice I can, of course." 
 She added after a pause, " But I wish " 
 
 Words or the inclination to speak failed her again, 
 and she relapsed into silence. 
 
 As he sat there beside her, silent too, his mind 
 travelled back to what her father had said ; and slowly 
 he began to understand. No doubt she liked Harry, 
 even as her father did. No doubt she thought he 
 would be a good husband, as Iver had thought him a 
 good fellow. But it became plain to the searcher after 
 truth that not to her any more than to her father was 
 it nothing that Harry was Tristram of Blent. Her 
 phrases about doing right and making the right choice 
 included a reference to that, even if that were not their 
 whole meaning. She had mentioned her father's 
 pleasure — everybody's pleasure. That pleasure would 
 be found largely in seeing her Lady Tristram. What 
 then would she have to say on the question that so 
 perplexed Mr Neeld ? Would she not echo Iver's ac- 
 cusation of fraud against Harry Tristram and (as a 
 consequence) against those who aided and abetted 
 him? Would she understand or accept as an excuse 
 the plea that Neeld had been led away by romance or 
 entrapped into a conspiracy by Mina Zabriska? No. 
 She too would call out " Fraud, fraud ! " and he did 
 not blame her. He called himself a fool for having 
 been led away by romance, by unreasoning feeling. 
 Should he blame her because she was not led away ? 
 His disposition was to praise her for a choice so wise, 
 
 [154]
 
 Fighters and Doubters 
 
 and to think that she had done very right in accept- 
 ing Lord Tristram of Blent. Aye, Lord Tristram of 
 Blent ! Precisely ! Deep despair settled on Mr 
 Neeld's baffled mind. 
 
 Meanwhile, Duplay walked home, the happier for 
 having crossed his Rubicon. He had opened his cam- 
 paign with all the success he could have expected. 
 Like a wise man, Iver held nothing true till it was 
 proved ; but like a wise man also he dubbed nothing a 
 lie merely because it was new or improbable. And on 
 the whole he had done the Major justice. He had 
 smiled for a moment when he hinted that Duplay and 
 Harry were not very cordial ; the Major met him by 
 a straightforward recognition that this was true, and 
 by an indirect admission of the reason. As to this lat- 
 ter Iver had dropped no word ; but he would give 
 Duplay a hearing. Now it remained only to bring 
 Mina to reason. If she spoke, the case would be so 
 strong as to demand inquiry. The relief in Duplay 's 
 mind was so great that he could not explain it, until 
 he realized that his niece's way of treating him had 
 so stuck in his memory that he had been prepared to 
 be turned from Ivor's doors with contumely. Such an 
 idea seemed absurd now, and the Major laughed. 
 
 Mina was strange, Duplay never ceased to think 
 that. They had parted on impossible terms ; but now, 
 as soon as he a])i:»carefl, she ran at him with ap- 
 parent pleasure and with the utmost eagerness. She 
 asked nothing about his expedition either, though she 
 could easily have guessed where he had been and for 
 what purpose. She almost danced as she cried : 
 
 " I've seen her! I've been talking to her! I met 
 her in the meadow near Matson's cottage, and she 
 asked me the way back to Blent. Uncle, she's won- 
 derhil ! " 
 
 " Who are you talking about? " 
 
 [155]
 
 Tristram ^Blent 
 
 " Why, Cecily Gainsborough, of course. I just re- 
 member how Lady Tristram spoke. She speaks tht 
 same way exactly ! I can't describe it, but it's the sort 
 of voice that makes you want to do anything in the 
 world it asks. Don't you know? She told me a lot 
 about herself ; then she talked about Blent. She's full 
 
 of it ; she admires it most tremendously " 
 
 That's all right," interrupted Duplay with a mali- 
 cious smile. " Because, so far as I can understand, 
 she happens to own it." 
 
 " What ? " The Imp stood frozen into stillness. 
 
 " You've been talking to Lady Tristram of Blent," 
 he added with a nod. " Though I suppose you didn't 
 tell her so?" 
 
 To Lady Tristram of Blent! She had never once 
 thought of that while they talked. The shock of the 
 idea was great, so great that Mina forgot to repudiate 
 it, or to show any indignation at Harry's claims being 
 passed by in contemptuous silence. All the while they 
 talked, she had thought of the girl as far removed from 
 Blent, as even more of a visitor to the countryside 
 than she herself was, a wonderful visitor indeed, but 
 no part of their life. And she was — well, at the least 
 she was heir to Blent! How had she forgotten that? 
 The persistent triumph of Duplay's smile marked his 
 sense of the success of his sally. 
 
 " Yes, and she'll be installed there before many 
 months are out," he went on. " So I hope you made 
 yourself pleasant, Mina? " 
 
 Mina gave him one scornful glance, as she passed 
 by him and ran out on to her favorite terrace. There 
 was a new thing to look and to wonder at in Blent. 
 The interest, the sense of concern in Blent and its 
 affairs, which the news of the engagement had blunted 
 and almost destroyed, revived in her now. She forgot 
 the prose of that marriage arrangement and turned 
 eagerly to the poetry of Cecily Gainsborough, of the 
 
 [156]
 
 Fighters and Doubters 
 
 poor girl there in the house that was hers, unwitting 
 guest of the man who was The Imp stopped her- 
 self with rude abruptness. What had she been about 
 to say, what had she been about to think ? The guest 
 of the man who was robbing her? That had been it. 
 But no, no, no ! She did not think that. Confused in 
 her mind by this new idea, none the less she found 
 her sympathy going out to Harry again. He was not 
 a robber ; it was his own. The blood, she cried still, 
 and not the law. But what was to be done about Cecily 
 Gainsborough ? Was she to go back to the little house 
 in London, was she to go back to ugliness, to work, to 
 short commons? There seemed no way out. Be- 
 tween the old and the new attraction, the old allegiance 
 and the new claim to homage that Cecily made, Alina 
 Zabriska stood bewildered. She had a taste now of 
 the same perplexity that she had done so much to 
 bring on poor Mr Neeld at Fairholme. Yet not quite 
 the same. He did not know what he ought to do ; 
 she did not feel sure of what she wanted. Both stood 
 undecided. Mr Cholderton's Journal was still at its 
 work of disturbing people's minds. 
 
 But Major Duplay was well content with the day's 
 work. If his niece had a divided mind she would be 
 easier to bend to his will. He did not care who had 
 Blent, if only it passed from Harry. But it was a point 
 gained if Mina could think of its passing from Harry 
 to somebody who would be welcome to lier there. 
 Then she would tell the story which she had received 
 from her mother, and the first battle against Harry 
 Tristram would be won. The excitement of fighting 
 was on the Major now. He could neither pity the 
 enemy nor distrust his own cause till the strife was 
 done. 
 
 Amongst all the indecision there was about, Duplay 
 had the merit of a clear vision of his own purpose and 
 his own desires. 
 
 [157]
 
 T 
 
 XIII 
 
 In the Long Gallery 
 
 f R ^HE man with whom the fighters and the 
 doubters were concerned, in whose defence or 
 attack efforts and hopes were enUsted, round 
 whom hesitation and struggles gathered, was thinking 
 very Httle about his champions or his enemies. No 
 fresh whispers of danger had come to Harry Tris- 
 tram's ears. He knew nothing of Neeld and could 
 not think of that quiet old gentleman as a possible 
 menace to his secret. He trusted Mina Zabriska and 
 relied on the influence which he had proved himself to 
 possess over her. He did not believe that Duplay 
 would stick to his game, and was not afraid of him if 
 he did. The engagement was accomplished ; the big 
 check, or the prospect of it, lay ready to his hand ; his 
 formal proofs, perfect so long as they were unassailed, 
 awaited the hour when formal proofs would be re- 
 quired. To all appearance he was secure in his in- 
 heritance and buttressed against any peril. No voice 
 was raised, no murmur was heard, to impugn the right 
 of the new Lord Tristram of Blent. The object of all 
 those long preparations, which had occupied his 
 mother and himself for so many years, was achieved. 
 He sat in Addie Tristram's place, and none said him 
 nay. 
 
 His mind was not much on these matters at all. 
 Even his engagement occupied him very little. Janie's 
 letter had arrived and had been read. It came at mid- 
 dav, and the evening found it still unacknowledged. 
 
 [158]
 
 In the Long Gallery 
 
 It had broken in from outside as it were, intruding like 
 something foreign into the Hfe that he had begun to 
 Hve on the evening before Addie Tristram was buried, 
 the evening when for an instant he had thought he 
 saw her phantom by the Pool ; a life foreshadowed by 
 the new mood which Mina had noticed in him while 
 Lady Tristram still lived, but brought into reality by 
 the presence of another. It seemed a new life com- 
 ing to one who was almost a new man, so much of the 
 unexpected in him did it reveal to himself. He had 
 struggled against it, saying that the Monday morn- 
 ing would see an end of this unlooked-for episode of 
 feeling and of companionship. Accident stepped in ; 
 Gainsborough lay in bed with a chill and could not 
 move. Harry acquiesced in the necessity of his re- 
 maining, not exactly with pleasure, rather with a sense 
 that something had begun to happen, not by his will, 
 but afifecting him deeply. What would come of it he 
 did not know ; that it would end in a day or two, that 
 it would be only an episode and leave no permanent 
 mark seemed now almost impossible ; it was fraught 
 with something bigger than that. 
 
 But with what ? He had no reasoned idea ; he was 
 unable to reason. He was passive in the hands of the 
 feelings, the impressions, the fancies that laid hold of 
 him. Addie Tristram's death had moved him strange- 
 ly ; then came that hardly natural, eerily fascinating 
 reminiscence — no, it was more than that — that re- 
 embodiment or resurrection of her in the girl who 
 moved and talked and sat like her, who had her ways 
 though not her face, her eyes set in another frame, her 
 voice renewed in youthful richness, the very turns of 
 her head, even her old trick of sticking out her foot. 
 He scowled sometimes, he was surprised into laughter 
 sometimes ; at another moment he would rebel against 
 the malicious Power that seemed to be having a joke 
 
 [159]
 
 Tristram ^Blent 
 
 with him ; for the most part he looked, and looked, 
 and looked, unwilling to miss a single one of the char- 
 acteristic touches which had been Addie Tristram's 
 belongings and which he had never expected to see 
 again after her spirit had passed away. And the out- 
 come of all his looking was still the same as the effect 
 of his first impression on the evening before the funeral 
 — a sort of despair. A thing was there which he did 
 not know how to deal with. 
 
 And she was so happy, so absurdly happy. She 
 had soon found that he expected no conventional 
 solemnity; he laughed himself at the idea of Addie 
 Tristram wanting people to pull long faces, and keep 
 them long when pulled, because she had laid her bur- 
 den down and was at peace. Cecily found she might 
 be merry, and merry she was. A new life had come 
 to her too, a life of river and trees and meadows ; 
 deeper than that, a life of beauty about her. She ab- 
 sorbed it with a native thirst. There was plenty of it, 
 and she had been starved so long. She seized on Blent 
 and enjoyed it to the full. She enjoyed Harry too, 
 laughing now when he stared at her and making him 
 laugh, yet herself noting all his ways, his pride, his 
 little lordlinesses — these grew dear to her — his air of 
 owning the countryside, and making no secret of her 
 own pleasure in being part of the family and in living 
 in the house that owned the countryside. It is to be 
 feared that Mr Gainsborough and his chill were rather 
 neglected, but he got on very well with Addie Tris- 
 tram's ancient maid ; she had the nobility at her 
 fingers' ends and even knew something about their 
 pedigrees. Cecily was free, or assumed the freedom, 
 to spend her time with Harry, or, if he failed her, at 
 least with and among the things that belonged to him 
 and had belonged to beautiful Addie Tristram who 
 had been like her — so Harrv said, and Cecily treasured 
 
 [i6o]
 
 In the Long Gallery 
 
 the thought, teasing- him now sometimes, as they grew 
 intimate, with a purposed repetition of a pose or trick 
 that she had first displayed unconsciously, and found 
 had power to make him frown or smile. She smiled 
 herself in mischievous triumph when she hit her mark, 
 or she would break into the rich gurgle of delight that 
 he remembered hearing from his young mother when 
 he himself was a child. The life was to her all pure de- 
 light ; she had no share in the thoughts that often dark- 
 ened his brow, no knowledge of the thing which again 
 and again filled him with that wondering despair. 
 
 On the evening of the day when Major Duplay went 
 to Fairholme, the two sat together in the garden after 
 dinner. It was nine o'clock, a close still night, with 
 dark clouds now and then slowly moving off and on to 
 the face of a moon nearly full. They had been silent 
 for some minutes, sipping coffee. Cecily pointed to 
 the row of windows in the left wing of the house. 
 
 " I've never been there," she said. " What's that? " 
 " The Long Gallery^all one long room, you know," 
 he answered. 
 
 " One room ! All that ! What's in it ? " 
 " Well, everything mostly," he smiled. " All our 
 treasures, and our pictures, and so on." 
 " Why haven't you taken me there?" 
 Harry shrugged his shoulders. " You never asked 
 me," he said. 
 
 " Well, will you take me there now — when you've 
 finished your cigar? " 
 
 There was a pause before he answered, " Yes, if you 
 like." He turned to the servant who had come to take 
 away the coffee. " Light up the Long Gallery at 
 
 once." 
 
 " Yes, my lord." A slight surprise broke through 
 the respectful acceptance of the order. 
 
 " It was lighted last for my mother, months ago," 
 
 [i6i]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 Harry said, as though he were explaining his servant's 
 surprise. " She sat there the last evening before she 
 took to her room." 
 
 " Is that why you haven't taken me there?" 
 
 " I expect it is." His tone was not very confident. 
 
 " And you don't much want to now ? " 
 
 " No, I don't know that I do." But his reluctance 
 seemed vague and weak. 
 
 " Oh, I must go," Cecily decided, " but you needn't 
 come unless you like, you know." 
 
 " All right, you go alone," he agreed. 
 
 Window after window sprang into light. " Ah ! " 
 murmured Cecily in satisfaction ; and Mina Zabriska 
 saw the illumination from the terrace of Merrion on 
 the hill. Cecily rose, waved her hand to Harry, and 
 ran off into the house with a laugh. The next moment 
 he saw her figure in the first window ; she threw it 
 open, waved her hand again, and again laughed; the 
 moon, clear for a moment, shone on her face and 
 turned it pale. 
 
 He sat watching the lighted windows. From time 
 to time she darted into sight; once he heard the big 
 window at the end facing the river flung open, the next 
 instant she was in sight at the other extremity of the 
 Gallery. Evidently she was running about, examin- 
 ing all the things. She came to a window presently 
 and cried, " I wish you'd come and tell me all about 
 it." " I don't think I will," he called back. " Oh, 
 
 well !" she laughed impatiently, and disappeared. 
 
 Minutes passed and he did not see her again ; she must 
 have settled down somewhere, he supposed ; or per- 
 haps her mterest was exhausted and she had gone ofif 
 to her father's room. No, there she was, fiitting past 
 a window again. His reluctance gave way before 
 curiosity and attraction. Flinging away his cigar, he 
 got up and walked slowly into the house. 
 
 [162 J
 
 In the Long Gallery 
 
 The passage outside the Gallery was dimly lighted, 
 and the door of the Gallery was open. Harry stood in 
 the shadow unseen, watching intently every move- 
 ment of the girl's. She was looking at a case of minia- 
 tures and medals, memorials of beauties and of war- 
 riors. She turned from them to the picture of an 
 Elizabethan countess, splendid in ruff and rich in em- 
 broidery. She caught up a candle and held it over 
 her head, up toward the picture. Then setting the 
 candle down she ran to the end window and looked out 
 on the night. Addie Tristram's tall arm-chair still 
 stood by the window. Cecily threw herself into it, 
 sighing and stretching her arms in a delighted weari- 
 ness. Mina Zabriska could make out a figure in the 
 Long Gallery now. 
 
 Slowly and irresolutely Harry Tristram came in ; 
 Cecily's face was not turned toward the door, and he 
 stood unnoticed just within the threshold. His eyes 
 ranged round the room but came back to Cecily. She 
 was very quiet, but he saw her breast rise and fall in 
 quick breathing. She was stirred and moved. A 
 strange agitation, an intensity of feeling, came over 
 him as he stood there motionless, everything seeming 
 motionless around him, while his ancestors and hers 
 looked down on them from the walls, down on their 
 successors. The Lords of Blent were about him. 
 Their trophies and their treasures decked the room. 
 And she sat there in Addie Tristram's chair, in Addie 
 Tristram's place, in Addie Tristram's attitude. Did 
 the dead know the secret? Did the pictures share it? 
 Who was to them the Lord of Blent ? 
 
 He shook off these idle fancies — a man should not 
 give way to them — and walked up the room with a 
 steady assured tread. Even then she did not seem to 
 hear him till he spoke. 
 
 " Well, do you like it ? " he asked, leaning against a 
 
 [163]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 table in the middle of the upper part of the room, a 
 few feet from the chair where she sat. Now Mina Za- 
 briska made out two figures, cast up by the bright light 
 against the darkness, and watched them with an eager- 
 ness that had no reason in it. 
 
 " Like it ! " she cried, springing to her feet, running 
 to him, holding out her hands. " Like it ! Oh, Harry ! 
 Why, it's better than all the rest. Better, even bet- 
 ter!" 
 
 " It's rather a jolly room," said Harry. " The pict- 
 ures and all the things about make it look well." 
 
 " Oh, I'm not going to say anything if you talk like 
 that. You don't feel like that !— ' Rather a jolly 
 room ! ' That's what one says if the inn parlor's com- 
 fortable. This isn't a room. It's — it's " 
 
 " Shall we call it a temple ? " he suggested, smiling. 
 
 " I believe it's heaven — the private particular Tris- 
 tram heaven. They're all here ! " She waved toward 
 the pictures. " Here in a heaven of their own." 
 
 " And we're allowed to visit it before we die? " 
 
 " Yes. At least I am. You let me visit it. It be- 
 longs to you — to the dead and you." 
 
 " Do you want to stay here any longer? " he asked 
 with a sudden roughness. 
 
 " Yes, lots longer," she laughed defiantly, quite un- 
 dismayed. " You needn't, though. You'll have it all 
 your life. Perhaps I shall never have it again. 
 Father's better! And I don't know if you'll ever ask 
 us here again. You never did before, you know. So 
 I mean to have all of it I can get." She darted away 
 from him and ran back to the miniatures. A richly or- 
 namented sword hung on the wall just above them. 
 This caught her notice; she took it down and un- 
 sheathed it. 
 
 " Henricus Baro Tristram dc Blent,'' she spelt out 
 from the enamelled steel. " Per Ensem Justitia. What 
 
 [164]
 
 In the Long Gallery 
 
 does that mean ? No, I know. Rather a good motto, 
 cousin Harry. * That he shall take who has the power, 
 and he shall keep who can ! ' That was his justice, I 
 expect ! " 
 
 "Do you quarrel with it? If this was all yours, 
 would you give it up ? " 
 
 " Not without a fight ! " she laughed. " Per Enscm 
 Jiistitia!" She waved the blade. 
 
 Harry left her busy with the things that were so 
 great a delight and walked to the window at the other 
 end of the long room. Thence he watched, now her, 
 now the clouds that lounged off and on to the moon's 
 disk. More and more, though, his eyes were caught 
 by her and glued to her ; she was the centre of the 
 room ; it seemed all made and prepared for her even 
 as it had seemed for Addie Tristram. The motto ran 
 in his head — Per Enscm Jiistitia. What was the justice 
 and what the sword? He awoke to the cause of the 
 changed mood in him and of the agitation in which he 
 had been living. It was nothing to defy the law, to 
 make light of a dry abstraction, to find right against 
 it in his blood. His opponent now was no niore the 
 law, it was no more even some tiresome, unknown, un- 
 realized girl in London, with surroundings most un- 
 picturesque and associations that had no power to 
 touch his heart. Here was the enemy, this creature 
 whose every movement claimed the blood that was 
 hers, whose coming repaired the loss Blent had suf- 
 fered in losing Addie Tristram, whose presence 
 crowned its charms with a new glory. Nature that fash- 
 ioned her in the Tristram image — had it not put in her 
 hand the sword by which she should win justice? The 
 thought passed through his mind now without a 
 shock ; he seemed to see her mistress of Blent ; for 
 the moment he forgot himself as anyone save an on- 
 looker ; he did not seem concerned. 
 
 [165]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 Once more he roused himself. He had fallen into a 
 fear of the fancies that threatened to carry him he did 
 not know where. He wanted to get away from this 
 room with its suggestions, and from the presence that 
 gave them such force. 
 
 "Aren't you ready yet?" he called to her. "It's 
 getting late." 
 
 " Are you still there? " she cried back in a gay affec- 
 tation of surprise. " I'd forgotten all about you, I 
 thought I had it to myself. I was trying to think it 
 was all mine." 
 
 " Shall we go downstairs ? " His voice was hard 
 and constrained. 
 
 " No, I won't," she said squarely. " I can't go. It's 
 barely ten o'clock. Come, we'll talk here. You smoke 
 — or is that high treason? — and I'll sit here." She 
 threw herself into Addie Tristram's great chair. There 
 was a triumphant gayety in her air that spoke of her 
 joy in all about her, of her sense of the boundless satis- 
 faction that her surroundings gave. " I love it all so 
 much," she murmured, half perhaps to herself, yet still 
 as a plea to him that he would not seek to hurry her 
 from the place. 
 
 Harry turned away, again with that despair on him. 
 She gave him permission to go, but he could not leave 
 her — neither her nor now the room. Yet he was 
 afraid that he could not answer for himself if he stayed. 
 It was too strange that every association, and every 
 tradition, and every emotion which had through all 
 the years seemed to justify and even to sanctify his 
 own position and the means he was taking to preserve 
 it, should in two or three days begin to desert him, 
 and should now in this hour openly range themselves 
 against him and on her side ; so that all he invoked 
 to aid him pleaded for her, all that he had prayed to 
 bless him and his enterprise blessed her and cursed 
 the work to which he had put his hand. 
 
 [i66]
 
 In the Long Gallery 
 
 Which of them could best face the world without 
 Blent? Which of them could best look the world in 
 the face having Blent ? These were the questions that 
 rose in his mind with tempestuous insistence. 
 
 " I could sit here forever," she murmured, a lazy 
 enjoyment succeeding to the agile movements of her 
 body and the delighted agitation of her nerves. " It 
 just suits me to sit here, cousin Harry. Looking like 
 a great lady ! " Her eyes challenged him to deny that 
 she looked the part to perfection. She glanced 
 through the window. " I met that funny little Madame 
 Zabriska who lives up at Merrion Lodge to-day. She 
 seems very anxious to know all about us." 
 
 " Madame Zabriska has a healthy — or unhealthy — 
 curiosity." The mention of Mina was a fresh prick. 
 Mina knew ; suddenly he hated that she should know. 
 
 " Is she in love with you? " asked Cecily, mocking- 
 ly yet languidly, indeed as a great iady might inquire 
 about the less exalted, condescending to be amused. 
 
 " Nobody's in love with me, not even the girl who's 
 going to marry me." 
 
 " To marry you ? " She sat up, looking at him. 
 " Are you engaged ? " 
 
 " Yes, to Janie Iver. You know who I mean ? " 
 
 " Yes, I know. You're going to be married to 
 her?" 
 
 " I asked her a week ago. To-day she wrote to say 
 she'd have me." He was on his feet even as he spoke. 
 " To marry me and to marry all this, you know." 
 
 She was too sympathetic to waste breath on civil 
 pretences. 
 
 " To be mistress here? To own this? To be Lady 
 Tristram of Blent?" 
 
 " Yes. To have what — what I'm supposed to have," 
 said he. 
 
 Cecily regarded him intently for another moment. 
 
 [167]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 Then she sank back into Addie Tristram's great arm- 
 chair, asking, "Will she do it well?" 
 
 " No," said Harry. " She's a good sort, but she 
 won't do it well." 
 
 Cecily sighed and turned her head toward the 
 window. 
 
 " Why do you do it ? Do you care for her? " 
 
 " I like her. And I want money. She's very rich. 
 Money might be useful to me." 
 
 " You seem very rich. Why do you want money? " 
 
 " I might want it. 
 
 There was silence for a moment. " Well, I hope 
 you'll be happy," she said presently. 
 
 She herself was the reason — the embodied reason 
 (was reason ever more fairly embodied?), why he was 
 going to marry Janie Iver. The monstrousness of it 
 rose before his mind. When he told of his engage- 
 ment, there had been for an instant a look in her 
 eyes. Wonder it was at least. Was it disappoint- 
 ment? Was it at all near to consternation? She sat 
 very still now; her gayety was gone. She was like 
 Addie Tristram still, but like Addie when the hard 
 world used her ill, when there were aches to be 
 borne and sins to be reckoned with. As he watched 
 her, yet another new thing came upon him, or a thing 
 that seemed to be as new as the last quarter chimed 
 by the old French clock on the mantel-piece, and yet 
 might date back so long as three days ago. Even now 
 it hardly reached consciousness, certainly did not at- 
 tain explicitness. It was still rather than Janie was no 
 mistress for Blent and that this girl was the ideal. It 
 was Blent still rather than himself, Blent's mistress 
 rather than his. But it was enough to set a new edge 
 on his questioning. Was he to be the man — he who 
 looked on her now and saw how fair she was — was he 
 to be the man to deny her her own, to rob her of her 
 
 [i68]
 
 In the Long Gallery 
 
 right, to parade before the world in the trappings 
 which were hers ? It was all so strange, so overwhelm- 
 ing. He dropped into a chair by him and pressed his 
 hand across his brow. A low murmur, almost a 
 groan, escaped him in the tumult of his soul. " My 
 God ! " he whispered, in a whisper that seemed to echo 
 through the room. 
 
 '' Harry ! Are you unhappy ? " In an instant she 
 was by him. " What is it? I don't understand. You 
 tell me you're engaged, and you look so unhappy. 
 Why do you marry her if you don't love her? Are you 
 giving her all this — and yourself — you yourself — with- 
 out loving her? Dear Harry — yes, you've been very 
 good to me — dear Harry, why ? " 
 
 " Go back," he said. " Go back to your chair. Go 
 and sit there." 
 
 With wonder in her eyes and a smile fresh-born on 
 her lips she obeyed him. 
 
 "Well?" she said. "You're very odd. But— 
 why ? " 
 
 " I'm marrying her for Blent's sake — and I think 
 she's marrying me for Blent's sake." 
 
 " I call that horrible." 
 
 " No." He sprang to his feet. " If Blent was yours, 
 what would you do to keep it ? " 
 
 " Everything," she answered. " Everything — ex- 
 cept sell myself, Harry." 
 
 She was superb. By a natural instinct, all affecta- 
 tion forgotten, she had thrown herself into Addic 
 Tristram's attitude. There was the head on the bend 
 of the arm, there was the dainty foot stuck out. There 
 was all the defiance of a world insensate to love, greedy 
 to find sin, dull to see grace and beauty, blind to a 
 woman's self while it cavilled at a woman's deeds. 
 
 "Everything except sell yourself?" he repeated, 
 his eyes set on her face. 
 
 [169]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 "Yes — Per Eiisoii Jitsfitia!" she laughed. "But 
 not lies, and not buying and selling, Harry." 
 
 " My word is given. I must marry her now." 
 
 " Better fling Blent away ! " she flashed out in a 
 brilliant indignation. 
 
 " And if I did that ? " 
 
 " A woman would love you for yourself," she cried, 
 leaning forward to him with hands clasped. 
 
 Again he rose and paced the length of the Long 
 Gallery. The moment was come. There was a great 
 alliance against him. He fought still. At every step 
 he took he came to something that still was his, that 
 he prized, that he loved, that meant much to him, that 
 typified his position as Tristram of Blent. A separate 
 pang waited on every step, a great agony rose in him 
 with the thought that he might be walking this room 
 as its master for the last time. Yes, it had come to 
 that. For against all, threatening to conquer all, was 
 the girl who sat in his mother's chair, her very body 
 asserting the claim that her thoughts did not know 
 and her mouth could not utter. And yet his mood had 
 affected her. The upturned eyes were full of excite- 
 ment, the parted lips waited for a word from him. 
 Mina Zabriska had left her terrace and gone to bed, 
 declaring that she was still on Harry's side ; but she 
 was not with him in this fight. 
 
 He returned to Cecily and stood by her. The sym- 
 pathy between them kept her still ; she watched, she 
 waited. For minutes he was silent ; all thought of 
 time was gone. Now she knew that he had something 
 great to say. Was it that he would and could have no 
 more to do with Janie Iver, that another had come, 
 that his word must go, and that he loved her? She 
 could hardly believe that. It was so short a time since 
 he had seen her. Yet why could it not be true of him, 
 if it were true of her ? And was it not ? Else why did 
 
 [170]
 
 In the Long Gallery 
 
 she hang on his words and keep her eyes on his ? Else 
 why was it so still in the room, as though the world 
 too waited for speech from his lips ? 
 
 " I can't do it ! " burst from him suddenly. " By 
 God, I can't do it ! " 
 
 " What, Harry ? " The words were no more than 
 breathed. He came right up to her and caught her by 
 the arm. 
 
 " You see all that — everything here? You love it? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " As much as I do? As much as I do?" His self- 
 control was gone. She made no answer; she could 
 not understand. 
 
 With an effort he mastered himself. 
 
 " Yes, you love it," he said, and a smile came on 
 his face. " I'm glad you love it. As God lives, unless 
 you'd loved it, I'd have spoken not a word of this. But 
 you're one of us, you're a Tristram. I don't know the 
 real rights of it, but I'll run no risk of cheating a Tris- 
 tram. You love it all ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, Harry. But why, dear Harry, why? " 
 
 "Why? Because it's yours." 
 
 He let go her hand and reeled back a step. 
 
 " Mine? What do you mean? " she cried. Still the 
 idea, the wild idea, that he offered it with himself was 
 in her mind. 
 
 ** It's yours, not mine — it's never been mine. You're 
 the owner of it. You're Tristram of Blent." 
 
 " I — I Tristram of Blent? " She was utterly bewil- 
 dered. For he was not a lover — no lover ever spoke 
 like that. 
 
 " Yes, I say, yes." His voice rose imperiously as it 
 pronounced the words that threw away his rule. 
 " You're Lady Tristram of Blent." 
 
 She did not understand ; yet she believed. lie 
 spoke so that he must be believed. 
 
 [171]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 " This is all yours — yours — yours. You're Tristram 
 of Blent." 
 
 She rose to her height, and stood facing him. 
 
 "And you? And you?" 
 
 "I? I'm— Harry." 
 
 "Harry? Harry? Harry what?" 
 
 He smiled as he looked at her ; as his eyes met hers 
 he smiled. 
 
 " Harry what ? Harry Nothing," he said. " Harry 
 Nothing-at-all." 
 
 He turned and left her alone in the room. She sank 
 back into the great arm-chair where Addie Tristram 
 had been wont to sit. 
 
 [172]
 
 XIV 
 
 The Very Same Day 
 
 SFLA.LL I wait up, my lord ? Miss Gainsborough 
 has gone to her room. I've turned out the Hghts 
 and shut up the house." 
 
 Harry looked at the clock in the study. It was one 
 o'clock. 
 
 " I thought you'd gone to bed long ago, Mason." 
 He rose and stretched himself. " I'm going to town 
 early in the morning. I shan't want any breakfast and 
 I shan't take anybody with me. Tell Fisher to pack 
 my portmanteau — things for a few days — and send it 
 to Paddington. I'll have it fetched from there. Tell 
 him to be ready to follow me, if I send for him." 
 
 " Yes, my lord." 
 
 " Give that letter to Miss Gainsborough in the 
 morning." He handed Mason a thick letter. Two 
 others lay on the table. After a moment's apparent 
 hesitation Harry put them in his pocket. " I'll post 
 them myself," he said. " When did Miss Gains- 
 borough go to her room? " 
 
 " About an hour back, my lord." 
 
 " Did she stay in the Long Gallery till then ? " 
 
 " Yes, my lord." 
 
 " I may be away a little while, Mason. I hope Miss 
 Gainsborough — and Mr Gainsborough too — will be 
 staying on some time. Make them comfortable." 
 
 Not a sign of curiosity or surprise escaped Mason. 
 His " Yes,, my lord," was just the same as though 
 Harry had ordered an egg for breakfast. Sudden com- 
 
 [173]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 ings and goings had always been the fashion of the 
 house. 
 
 " All right. Good-night, Mason." 
 
 " Good-night, my lord." Mason looked round for 
 something to carry oflf — the force of habit — found 
 nothing, and retired noiselessly. 
 
 " One o'clock ! " sighed Harry. " Ah, I'm tired. I 
 won't go to bed though, I couldn't sleep." 
 
 He moved restlessly about the room. His flood of 
 feeling had gone by ; for the time the power of thought 
 too seemed to have deserted him. He had told Cecily 
 everything; he had told Janie enough; he had 
 yielded to an impulse to write a line to Mina 
 Zabriska — because she had been so mixed up in it 
 all. The documents that were to have proved his claim 
 made a little heap of ashes in the grate. 
 
 All this had been two hours' hard work. But after 
 all two hours is not long to spend in getting rid of an 
 old life and entering on a new. He found himself 
 rather surprised at the simplicity of the process. What 
 was there left to do? He had only to go to London 
 and see his lawyer — an interview easy enough for him, 
 though startling no doubt to the lawyer. Cecily would 
 be put into possession of her own. There was noth- 
 ing sensational. He would travel a bit perhaps, or just 
 stay in town. He had money enough to live on quiet- 
 ly or to use in making more ; for his mother's savings 
 were indubitably his, left to him by a will in which he, 
 the real Harry, was so expressly designated by his 
 own full name — even more than that — as " Henry 
 Austen Fitzhubert Tristram, otherwise Henry Austen 
 Fitzhubert, my son by the late Captain Austen Fitz- 
 hubert " — that no question of his right could arise. 
 That money would not go with the title. Only Blent 
 and all the realty passed with that ; the money was not 
 afifected by the date of his birth ; that must be ex- 
 
 [174]
 
 The Very Same Day 
 
 plained to Cecily by his lawyer or perhaps she would 
 expect to get it. For the moment there was nothing to 
 do but to go to London — and then perhaps travel a bit. 
 He smiled for an instant ; it certainly struck him as 
 rather an anti-climax. He threw himself on a sofa 
 and, in spite of his conviction that he could not sleep, 
 dozed off almost directly. 
 
 It was three when he awoke ; he went up to his 
 room, had a bath, shaved, and put on a tweed suit. 
 Coming down to the study again, he opened the shut- 
 ters and looked out. It would be light soon, and he 
 could go away. He was fretfully impatient of stay- 
 ing. He drank some whiskey and soda-water, and 
 smoked a cigar as he walked up and down. Yes, there 
 were signs of dawn now ; the darkness lifted over the 
 hill on which Merrion stood. 
 
 Merrion ! Yes, Merrion. And the Major? Well, 
 Duplay had not frightened him, Duplay had not 
 turned him out. He was going of his own will — of his 
 own act anyhow, for he could not feel so sure about 
 the will. But for the first time it struck him that his 
 abdication might accrue to the Major's benefit, that 
 he had won for Duplay the prize which he was sure 
 the gallant officer could not have achieved for himself. 
 " I'll be hanged if I do that," he muttered. " Yes, I 
 know what I'll do," he added, smiling. 
 
 He got his hat and stick and went out into the 
 garden. The windows of the Long Gallery were all 
 dark. Harry smiled again and shook his fist at them. 
 There was no light in Cecily's window. He was glad 
 to think that the girl slept ; if he were tired she must 
 be terribly tired too. He was quite alone — alone with 
 the old place for the last time. He walked to where 
 he had sat with Cecily, where his mother used to sit. 
 He was easy in his mind about his mother. When she 
 had wanted him to keep the house and the name, she 
 
 [175]
 
 Tristram (^/^ Blent 
 
 had no idea of the true state of the case. And in fact 
 she herself had done it all by requesting him to invite 
 the Gainsboroughs to her funeral. That was proof 
 enough that he had not wronged her ; in the mood he 
 was in it seemed quite proof enough. Realities were 
 still a little dim to him, and fancies rather real. His 
 outward calmness of manner had returned, but his 
 mind was not in a normal state. Still he was awake 
 enough to the every-day world and to his ordinary 
 feelings to remain very eager that his sacrifice should 
 not turn to the Major's good. 
 
 He started at a brisk walk to the little bridge, 
 reached the middle of it, and stopped short. The talk 
 he had had with Mina Zabriska at this very spot came 
 back into his mind. "The blood, not the law!" he 
 had said. Well, it was to the blood he had bowed and 
 not to the law. He was strong about not having been 
 frightened by the law. Nor had he been dispossessed, 
 he insisted on that too. He had given ; he had chosen 
 to give. He made a movement as though to walk on, 
 but for a moment he could not. When it came to go- 
 ing, for an instant he corld not go. The parting was 
 difficult. He had no discontent with what he had 
 done ; on the whole it seemed far easier than he could 
 ever have imagined. But it was hard to go, to leave 
 Blent just as the slowly growing day brought into 
 sight every outline that he knew so well, and began 
 to warm the gardens into life. " I should rather 
 like to stay a day," was his thought, as he lingered 
 still. But the next moment he was across the bridge, 
 slamming the gate behind him and beginning to 
 mount the road up the valley. He had heard a shut- 
 ter thrown open and a window raised ; the sound came 
 from the wing where Cecily slept. He did not want to 
 see her now ; he did not wish her to see him. She was 
 to awake to undivided possession, free from any re- 
 
 [176]
 
 The Very Same Day 
 
 minder of him. That was his fancy, his idea of making 
 his gift to her of what was hers more splendid and more 
 complete. But she did see him ; she watched him 
 from her window as he walked away up the valley. 
 He did not know^ ; true to his fancy, he never turned 
 his head. 
 
 Bob Broadley was an early riser, as his business in 
 life demanded. At six o'clock he was breakfasting in 
 a bright little room opening. on his garden. He was in 
 the middle of his rasher when a shadow fell across his 
 plate. Looking up, he started to see Harry Tristram 
 at the doorway. 
 
 " Lord Tristram ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " You've called me Tristram all your life. I should 
 think you might still," observed Harry. 
 
 " Oh, all right. But what brings you here ? These 
 aren't generally your hours, are they? " 
 
 " Perhaps not. May I have some breakfast? " 
 
 The maid was summoned and brought him what he 
 asked. She nearly dropped the cup and saucer when 
 she realized that the Great Man was there — at six in 
 the morning! 
 
 " I'm on my way to London," said Harry. " Going 
 to take the train at Fillingford instead of Blentmouth, 
 because I wanted to drop in on you. I've something 
 to say." 
 
 " I expect I've heard. It's very kind of you to come, 
 but I saw Janie Iver in Blentmouth yesterday." 
 
 " I dare say ; but she didn't tell you what I'm going 
 to." 
 
 Harry, having made but a pretence of breakfasting, 
 pushed away his plate. " I'll smoke if you don't mind. 
 You go on eating," he said. " Do you remember a 
 little talk we had about our friend Duplay? We 
 agreed that we should both like to put a spoke in his 
 wheel." 
 
 [177]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " And you've done it," said Bob, reaching for his 
 pipe from the mantel-piece. 
 
 " I did do it. I can't do it any more. You know 
 there were certain reasons which made a marriage be- 
 tween Janie Iver and me seem desirable ? I'm saying 
 nothing against her, and I don't intend to say a word 
 against myself. Well, those reasons no longer exist. 
 I have written to her to say so. She'll get that letter 
 this afternoon." 
 
 "You've written to break ofif the engagement?" 
 Bob spoke slowly and thoughtfully, but with no great 
 surprise. 
 
 " Yes. She accepted me under a serious misappre- 
 hension. When I asked her I was in a position to 
 which I had no " He interrupted himself, frown- 
 ing a little. Not even now was he ready to say that. 
 "In a position which I no longer occupy," he 
 amended, recovering his placidity. " All the world 
 will know that very soon. I am no longer owner of 
 Blent." 
 
 " What? " cried Bob, jumping up and looking hard 
 at Harry, The surprise came now. 
 
 " And I am no longer what you called me just now — 
 Lord Tristram. You know the law about succeeding 
 to peerages and entailed lands? Very well. My birth 
 has been discovered [he smiled for an instant] not to 
 satisfy that law — the merits of which. Bob, we won't 
 discuss. Consequently not I, but Miss Gainsborough 
 succeeds my mother in the title and the property. I 
 have informed Miss Gainsborough — I ought to say 
 Lady Tristram — of these facts, and I'm on my way to 
 London to see the lawyers and get everything done in 
 proper order." 
 
 " Good God, do you mean what you say? " 
 
 " Oh, of course I do. Do you take me for an idiot, 
 to come up here at six in the morning to talk balder- 
 
 [178]
 
 The Very Same Day 
 
 dash ? " Harry was obviously irritated. " Everybody 
 will know soon. I came to tell you because I fancy 
 you've some concern in it, and, as I say, I still want 
 that spoke put in the Major's wheel." 
 
 Bob sat down and was silent for many moments, 
 smoking hard. 
 
 " But Janie won't do that," he broke out at last. 
 " She's too straight, too loyal. If she's accepted 
 you " 
 
 " A beautiful idea, Bob, if she was in love with 
 me. But she isn't. Can you tell me you think 
 she is? " 
 
 Bob grunted inarticulately — an obvious, though not 
 a skilful, evasion of the question. 
 
 " And anyhow," Harry pursued, " the thing's at an 
 end. I shan't marry her. Now if that suggests any 
 action on your part I — well, I shall be glad I came to 
 breakfast." He got up and went to the window, look- 
 ing out on the neat little garden and to the paddock 
 beyond. 
 
 In a moment Bob Broadley's hand was laid on his 
 shoulder. He turned and faced him. 
 
 " What a thing for you ! You — you lose it all ? " 
 
 " I have given it all up." 
 
 " I can't realize it, you know. The change " 
 
 " Perhaps I can't either. I don't know that I want 
 to. Bob." 
 
 " Who made the discovery? How did it come out? 
 Nobody ever had any suspicion of-it!" 
 
 Harry looked at him long and thoughtfully, but in 
 the end he only shook his head, saying, " Well, it's 
 true anyhow." 
 
 " It beats me. I see what you mean about myself 
 and — Still I give you my word I hate its happening. 
 Who's this girl ? W^iy is she to come here ? W' ho 
 knows anything about her? " 
 
 [179]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " You don't, of course," Harry conceded with a 
 smile. " No more did I a week ago." 
 
 " Couldn't you have made a fight for it? " 
 
 " Yes, a deuced good fight. But I chose to let 
 it go. Now don't go on looking as if you didn't under- 
 stand the thing. It's simple enough." 
 
 " But Lady Tristram — your mother — must have 
 known " 
 
 " The question didn't arise as long as my mother 
 lived," said Harry quickly. " Her title was all right, 
 of course." 
 
 There was another question on the tip of Bob's 
 tongue, but after a glance at Harry's face he did not 
 put it ; he could not ask Harry if he had known, 
 
 "I'm hanged!" he muttered. 
 
 " Yes, but you understand why I came here ? " 
 
 " Yes. That was kind." 
 
 " Oh, no. I want to spike the Major's guns, you 
 know." He laughed a little. " And — well, yes, I think 
 I'm promoting the general happiness too, if you must 
 know. Now I'm ofif. Bob." 
 
 He held out his hand and Bob grasped it. " We'll 
 meet again some day, when things have settled down. 
 Beat Duplay for me, Bob. Good-by." 
 
 " That's grit, real grit," muttered Bob, as he re- 
 turned to the house after seeing Harry Tristram on his 
 way. 
 
 It was that — or else the intoxication of some in- 
 fluence whose power had not passed away. Whatever 
 it was, it had a marked efifect on Bob Broadley. There 
 was an appearance of strength and resolution about 
 it — as of a man knowing what he meant to do and do- 
 ing it. As he inspected his pigs an hour later, Bob 
 came to the conclusion that he himself was a poor sort 
 of fellow. People who waited for the fruit to fall into 
 their mouths were apt to find that a hand intervened 
 
 [i8o]
 
 The Very Same Day 
 
 and plucked it. That had happened to him once, and 
 probably he could not have helped it ; but he meant 
 to try to prevent its happening again. He was in a 
 ferment all the morning, partly on his own account, 
 as much about the revolution which had suddenly 
 occurred in the little kingdom on the banks of the 
 Blent. 
 
 In the afternoon he had his gig brought round and 
 set out for Blentmouth. As he passed Blent Hall, he 
 saw a girl on the bridge — a girl in black looking down 
 at the water. Lady Tristram ? It was strange to call 
 her by the title that had been another's. But he sup- 
 posed it must be Lady Tristram. She did not look up 
 as he passed ; he retained a vision of the slack dreari- 
 ness of her pose. Going on, he met the Iver carriage ; 
 Iver and Neeld sat in it, side by side ; they waved 
 their hands in careless greeting and went on talking 
 earnestly. On the outskirts of the town he came on 
 Miss Swinkerton and Mrs Trumbler walking together. 
 As he raised his hat, a dim and wholly inadequate idea 
 occurred to him of the excitement into which these 
 good ladies would soon be thrown, a foreshadowing of 
 the wonder, the consternation, the questionings, the 
 bubbling emotions which were soon to stir the quiet 
 backwaters of the villas of Blentmouth. For him- 
 self, what was he going to do? He could not tell. He 
 put up his gig at the inn and sauntered out into the 
 street ; still he could not tell. But he wandered out 
 to Fairholme, up to the gate, and past it, and back to 
 it, and past it again. 
 
 Now would Harry Tristram do that ? No ; either he 
 would never have come or he would have been inside 
 before this. Bob's new love of boldness did not let 
 him consider whether this was the happiest moment 
 for its display. Those learned in the lore of such mat- 
 ters would probably have advised him to let her alone 
 
 [i8i]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 for a few days, or weeks, or months, according to the 
 subtilty of their knowledge or their views. Bob rang 
 the bell. 
 
 Janie was not denied to him, but only because no 
 chance was given to her of denying herself. A foot- 
 man, unconscious of convulsions external or internal, 
 showed him into the morning-room. But Janie's own 
 attitude was plain enough in her reception of him. 
 
 " Oh, Bob, why in the world do you come here to- 
 day? Indeed I can't talk to you to-day." Her dismay 
 was evident. " If there's nothing very particular " 
 
 " Well, you know there is," Bob interrupted. 
 
 She turned her head quickly toward him. " I know 
 there is ? What do you mean ? " 
 
 "You've got Harry Tristram's letter, I suppose?" 
 
 " What do you know of Harry Tristram's letter? " 
 
 " I haven't seen it, but I know what's in it all the 
 
 same." 
 
 " How do you know? " 
 
 " He came up to Mingham to-day and told me." 
 Bob sat down by her, uninvited ; certainly the belief 
 in boldness was carrying him far. But he did not quite 
 anticipate the next development. She sprang up, 
 sprang away from his neighborhood, crying, 
 
 " Then how dare you come here to-day ? Yes, I've 
 got the letter — just an hour ago. Have you come to 
 — to triumph over me ? " 
 
 " What an extraordinary idea ! " remarked Bob in 
 the slow tones of a genuine astonishment. 
 
 " You'd call it to condole, I suppose ! That's rather 
 worse." 
 
 Bob confined himself to a long look at her. It 
 brought him no enlightenment. 
 
 " You must see that you're the very " She 
 
 broke of? abruptly, and, turning away, began to walk 
 up and down. 
 
 [182]
 
 The Very Same Day 
 
 " The very what ? " asked Bob. 
 
 She turned and looked at him ; she broke into a 
 peevishly nervous laugh. Anybody but Bob — really 
 anybody but Bob — would have known ! The laugh en- 
 couraged him a little, which again it had no right 
 to do. 
 
 " I thought you'd be in trouble, and like a bit of 
 cheering up," he said with a diplomatic air that was 
 ludicrously obvious. 
 
 She considered a moment, taking another turn about 
 the room to do it. 
 
 " What did Harry Tristram say to you ? " 
 
 " Oh, he told me the whole thing. That — that he's 
 chucked it up, you know." 
 
 " I mean about me." 
 
 " He didn't say much about you. Just that it was all 
 ended, you know." 
 
 " Did he think I should accept his withdrawal ? " 
 
 " Yes, he seemed quite sure of it," answered Bob. 
 " I had my doubts, but he seemed quite sure of it." 
 Apparently Bob considered his statement reassuring 
 
 and comforting. 
 
 (( 
 
 You had your doubts ? " 
 Yes. I thought perhaps- 
 
 " You were wTong then, and Harry Tristram was 
 right." She flung the words at him in a fierce hostility. 
 " Now he's not Lord Tristram any longer, I don't want 
 to marry him." She paused. " You believe he isn't, 
 don't you ? There's no doubt ? " 
 
 I believe him all right. He's a fellow you can rely 
 
 on." 
 
 "But it's all so strange. Why has he done it? 
 Well, that doesn't matter. At any rate he's right 
 about me." 
 
 Bob sat stolidly in his chair. He did not know at all 
 what to sav, but he did not mean to go. He had put 
 
 [183]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 no spoke in the Major's wheel yet, and to do that was 
 his contract with Harry Tristram, as well as his own 
 strong desire. 
 
 " Have you sympathized — or condoled — or tri- 
 umphed — enough ? " she asked ; she was fierce still. 
 
 " I don't know that I've had a chance of saying any- 
 thing much," he observed with some justice. 
 
 " I really don't see what you can have to say. What 
 is there to say? " 
 
 " Well, there's just this to say — that I'm jolly glad 
 of it." 
 
 She was startled by his blunt sincerity, so startled 
 that she passed the obvious chance of accusing him of 
 cruelty toward Harry Tristram, and thought only of 
 how his words touched herself. 
 
 " Glad of it ! Oh, if you knew how it makes me feel 
 about myself! But you don't, or you'd never be here 
 now." 
 
 " Why shouldn't I be here now? " He spoke slow- 
 ly, as though he were himself searching for any sound 
 reason. 
 
 " Oh, it's " The power of explanation failed 
 
 her. People who will not see obvious things some- 
 times hold a very strong position. Janie began to feel 
 rather helpless. " Do go. I don't want anybody to 
 come and find you here." She had turned from com- 
 mand to entreaty. 
 
 " I'm jolly glad," he resumed, settling himself back 
 in his chair, " that the business between you and Harry 
 Tristram's all over. It ought never to have gone so 
 far, you know." 
 
 " Are you out of your mind to-day. Bob? " 
 
 " And now, what about the Major, Miss Janie ? " 
 
 She flushed red in indignation, perhaps in guilt too. 
 " How dare you ? You've no business to " 
 
 " I don't know the right way to say things, I dare 
 
 I184]
 
 The Very Same Day 
 
 say," he admitted, but with an abominable tranquil- 
 Hty. " Still I expect you know what I mean all 
 the same." 
 
 " Do you accuse me of having encouraged Major 
 Duplay ? " 
 
 " I should say you'd been pretty pleasant to him. 
 But it's not my business to worry myself about Du- 
 play." , ^ 
 
 " I wish you always understood as well what isn t 
 your business." 
 
 " And it isn't what you have done but what you're 
 going to do that I'm interested in." He paused sev- 
 eral moments and then went on very slowly, " I tell 
 you what it is. I'm not very proud of myself. So if 
 you happen to be feeling the same, why that's all 
 right, Miss Janie. The fact is, I let Harry Tristram 
 put me in a funk, you know. He was a swell, and he's 
 got a sort of way about him too. But I'm hanged if 
 I'm going to be in a funk of Duplay." He seemed to 
 ask her approval of the proposed firmness of his atti- 
 tude. " I've been a bit of an ass about it all, I think," 
 he concluded with an air of thoughtful inquiry. 
 
 The opening was irresistible. Janie seized it with 
 impetuous carelessness. " Yes, you have, you have in- 
 deed. Only I don't see why you think it's over, I'm 
 sure." 
 
 " Well, I'm glad you agree with me," said he. But 
 he seemed now rather uncertain how he ought to go 
 on. " That's what I wanted to say," he added, and 
 looked at her as if he thought she might give him a 
 lead. 
 
 The whole thing was preposterous ; Janie was be- 
 wildered. He had outraged all decency in coming at 
 such a moment and in talking like this. Then hav- 
 ing got (by such utter disregard of all decency) to a 
 point at which he could not possiblv stop, he stopped ! 
 
 [185]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 He even appeared to ask her to go on for him ! She 
 stood still in the middle of the room, looking at him 
 as he sat squarely in his chair. 
 
 " Since you've said what you wanted to say, I 
 should think you might go." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose I might, but " He was 
 
 puzzled. He had said what he wanted to say, or 
 thought he had, but it had failed to produce the situa- 
 tion he had anticipated from it. If he went now, leav- 
 ing matters just as they stood, could he be confident 
 that the spoke was in the wheel ? Up to now nothing 
 was really agreed upon except that he himself had been 
 an ass. No doubt this was a pregnant conclusion, but 
 Bob was not quite clear exactly how much it involved ; 
 while it encouraged him, it left him still doubtful. 
 " But don't you think you might tell me what you 
 think about it ? " he asked in the end. 
 
 " I think I'm not fit to live," cried Janie. " That's 
 what I think about it. Bob." Her voice trembled ; she 
 was afraid she might cry soon if something did not 
 happen to relieve the strain of this interview. " And 
 you saw what Harry thought by his sending me that 
 letter. The very moment it happened, he sent me that 
 letter ! " 
 
 " I saw what he thought pretty well, anyhow," said 
 Bob, smiling reflectively again. 
 
 " Oh, yes, if that makes it any better for me ! " 
 
 " Well, if he's not miserable, I don't see why you 
 need be." 
 
 "The things you don't see would fill an encyclo- 
 paedia ! " 
 
 Bob looked at his watch ; the action seemed in the 
 nature of an ultimatum ; his glance from the watch 
 to Janie heightened the impression. 
 
 " You've nothing more to say? " he asked her. 
 
 " No. I agreed with what you said — that you'd 
 
 [i86J
 
 The Very Same Day 
 
 been — an ass. I don't know that you've said anything 
 else." 
 
 " All right." He got up and came to her, holding 
 out his hand. " Good-by for the present, then." 
 
 She took his hand — and she held it. She could not 
 let it go. Bob allowed it to lie in hers. 
 
 " Oh, dear old Bob, I'm so miserable; I hate my- 
 self for having done it, and I hate myself worse for be- 
 ing so glad it's undone. It did seem best till I did it. 
 No, I suppose I really wanted the title and — and all 
 that. I do hate myself ! And now — the very same 
 day — I let you " 
 
 " You haven't let me do much," he suggested con- 
 solingly. 
 
 " Yes, I have. At least " She came a little 
 
 nearer to him. He took hold of her other hand. He 
 drew her to him and held her in his arms. 
 
 " That's all right," he remarked, still in tones of con- 
 solation. 
 
 " If anybody knew this ! You won't say a word, 
 will you. Bob ? Not for ever so long ? You will pre- 
 tend it was ever so long before I — I mean, be- 
 tween ? " 
 
 " I'll tell any lie," said Bob very cheerfully. 
 
 She laughed hysterically. " Because I should never 
 be able to look people in the face if anybody knew 
 that on the very same day " 
 
 " I should think a — a week would be about right? " 
 
 " A week! No, no. Six months." 
 
 " Oh, six months be " 
 
 " Well then, three? Do agree to three." 
 
 " We'll think about three. Still miserable, Janie? " 
 
 " Yes, still — rather. Now you must go. Fancy if 
 anybody came ! " 
 
 " All right, I'll go. But, I say, you might just drop 
 a hint to the Major." 
 
 [187]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " I can't send him another message that I'm — that 
 I've done it again ! " 
 
 She drew a Httle away from him. Bob's hearty 
 laugh rang out ; his latent sense of humor was touched 
 at the idea of this second communication to the Major. 
 For a moment Janie looked angry, for a moment deep- 
 ly hurt. Bob laughed still. There was nothing for 
 it but to join in. Her own laugh rang out gayly as he 
 caught her in his arms again and kissed her. 
 
 " Oh, if anybody knew ! " sighed Janie. 
 
 But Bob was full of triumph. The task was done, 
 the spoke was in the wheel. There was an end of the 
 Major as well as of Harry — and an end to his own 
 long and not very hopeful waiting. He kissed his 
 love again. 
 
 There was a sudden end to the scene too — startling 
 and sudden. The door of the room opened abruptly, 
 and in the doorway stood Mrs Iver. Little need to 
 dilate on the situation as it appeared to Mrs Iver! 
 Had she known the truth, the thing was bad enough. 
 But she knew nothing of Harry Tristram's letter. 
 After a moment of consternation Janie ran to her, 
 crying, 
 
 " I'm not engaged any more to Harry Tristram, 
 mother ! " 
 
 Mrs Iver said nothing. She stood by the open door. 
 There was no mistaking her meaning. With a shame- 
 faced bow, struggling with an unruly smile. Bob 
 Broadley got through it somehow. Janie was left 
 alone with Mrs Iver. 
 
 Such occurrences as these are very deplorable. Al- 
 most of necessity they impair a daughter's proper posi- 
 tion of superiority and put her in a relation toward her 
 mother which no self-respecting young woman would 
 desire to occupy. It might be weeks before Janie Iver 
 could really assert her dignity again. It was strong 
 
 [i88]
 
 The Very Same Day 
 
 proof of her afifection for Bob Broadley that, consider- 
 ing the matter in her own room (she had not been 
 exactly sent there, but a retreat had seemed advisable) 
 she came to the conchision that, taking good and bad 
 together, she was on the whole glad that he had 
 called. 
 
 But to Bob, with the selfishness of man, Mrs Tver's 
 sudden appearance wore rather an amusing aspect. It 
 certainly could not spoil his triumph or impair his 
 happiness. 
 
 [189I
 
 XV 
 
 An Inquisition Interrupted 
 
 ""T^ ' ItTY mother told it me just as a bit of gossip. 
 
 \ /I She didn't believe it, no more did I." 
 It A " But you repeated it." 
 
 It was Iver who was pressing her. He was not now 
 the kind host Mina knew so well. He was rather the 
 keen man of business, impatient of shuffling, incredu- 
 lous of any action for which he could not see the motive, 
 distrustful and very shrewd. 
 
 " Oh, I repeated it to my uncle, because I thought it 
 might amuse him — just for something to say." 
 
 " Your idea of small talk is rather peculiar," was 
 Tver's dry comment. He looked at the Major on his 
 right, and at Neeld on his left at the table ; Mina was 
 opposite, like the witness before the committee. 
 
 " So is yours of politeness," she cried. " It's my 
 house. Why do you come and bully me in it? " 
 
 Duplay was sullenly furious. Poor Mr Neeld's state 
 was lamentable. He had not spoken a word through- 
 out the interview. He had taken refuge in nodding, 
 exhausting the significance of nods in reply to the 
 various appeals that the other three addressed to him. 
 If their meaning had been developed, his nods must 
 have landed him in a pitiable mess of inconsistencies ; 
 he had tried to agree with everybody, to sympathize 
 all round, to indorse universally. He had won mo- 
 mentary applause, and in the end created general dis- 
 satisfaction. 
 
 Iver had his temper in hand still, but he was hard 
 and resolute. 
 
 " You don't seem to understand the seriousness of 
 
 [190]
 
 An Inquisition Interrupted 
 
 the thing in the least," he said. " I've spoken plainly 
 to you. My daughter's future is at stake. You say 
 it was all idle gossip. I find that hard to believe. Even 
 if so, I must have that gossip investigated and proved 
 to be nothing but gossip." 
 
 " Investigate it then," said the Imp peevishly. 
 
 " You refuse me the materials. What you told 
 Major Duplay was too vague. You know more. You 
 can put me on the track." 
 
 Mina was silent. Neeld wiped his brow with his 
 handkerchief. Iver changed his tone. 
 
 " Mina, we've been friends to you. I'm not 
 ashamed to remind you of it. Janie's a great friend 
 of yours ; my wife and I have welcomed you first for 
 her sake, then for your own. Is this the best return 
 you can make us? Consult anybody you like, if you 
 think I'm prejudiced, whether your conduct is honor- 
 able, is square." He paused a moment. " Ask Mr 
 Neeld here what he would do. I'm wilUng to abide by 
 his judgment." 
 
 Mina was sorely tempted to say, " Ask him then." 
 The situation would thus become so much the more 
 piquant. But Mr Neeld was in such distress — to her 
 sharp eyes a distress so visible — that she did not dare 
 to risk the coup. If he were let alone he might keep 
 silence and quiet his conscience by the plea that he 
 had been asked no questions. But she did not venture 
 to face him with a demand for a verdict on her conduct ; 
 for her conduct was also his own. 
 
 " I must judge for myself. Mr Neeld can't help me," 
 she answered. " Uncle has chosen to say he can prove 
 these things. Let him try." She drew herself up with 
 a prim prudish air. " I don't think it's desirable to 
 mix myself up in such very peculiar questions at all, 
 and I don't think it's nice of men to come and cross- 
 question me about them." 
 
 [191]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 '' Oh, we're not in a girls' school," said Iver, with a 
 touch of irritation hardly suppressed. " We come as 
 men of the world to a sensible woman." 
 
 " Anybody will tell you I'm not that," interrupted 
 the Imp. 
 
 " Well, then, to a woman of good feeling, who 
 wishes to be honest and to be true to her friends. Du- 
 play, have you no influence with Madame Zabriska? " 
 
 " I've spared no effort," replied the Major. " I can't 
 believe that she won't help us in the end." His tone 
 was almost menacing. Mina, remembering how he 
 had terrorized the secret out of her before, and resent- 
 ing the humiliation of the memory, stiffened her neck 
 once more. 
 
 " I've nothing to say. You must do as you think 
 best," she said. 
 
 " You must be made to speak." 
 
 Iver's threats alarmed where Duplay's only an- 
 noyed. He spoke calmly and with weight. 
 
 " Who can make me speak ? " she cried, more angry 
 from her fear. 
 
 ■ " The law. When we have reached a certain stage 
 in the inquiry, we shall be able to compel you to 
 speak." 
 
 " I thought you couldn't move a step without me?" 
 
 Iver was rather set back, but he braved it out. 
 
 " The difficulties are immensely increased, but 
 they're not insuperable," he said. 
 
 " I shan't stay to be questioned and bullied. I shall 
 go abroad." 
 
 Iver looked at the Major; the Major returned his 
 glance ; they were both resolute men. 
 
 " No, you won't go away," declared Iver slowly. 
 
 The Imp was frightened ; she was an ignorant 
 young woman in a land of whose laws she knew noth- 
 ing. Neeld would have liked to suggest soinething 
 
 [192]
 
 An iNguisiTioN Interrupted 
 
 soothing about the Hberty of the individual and the 
 Habeas Corpus Act. But he dared show no sympathy 
 — beyond nodding at her unobserved. The nod told 
 her nothing. 
 
 " You'll stop me ? " Still she tried to sneer de- 
 fiantly. 
 
 Another glance passed between Tver and Duplay. 
 A shrewd observer might have interpreted it as mean- 
 ing, " Even if we can't do it, she'll think we can." 
 
 " We shall," said the Major, executing the bluff on 
 behalf of himself and his partner. 
 
 The Imp thought of crying — not for her uncle — 
 which would be hopeless — but for Iver. She con- 
 cluded it would be hopeless there too ; Iver would 
 not heed tears in business hours, however tender- 
 hearted he might be in private life. So she laughed 
 again instead. But the laugh was a failure, and Iver 
 was sharp enough to see it. 
 
 " In this country people aren't allowed to play fast 
 and loose in this fashion," he remarked. " I'll tell you 
 one way in which we can make you speak. I have only 
 to go to Lord Tristram and tell him you have spread 
 these reports, that you have made and repeated these 
 imputations on his birth and on his title. What will 
 he do? Can he rest content without disproving them' 
 at law? I say he can't. In those proceedings you 
 would be compelled to speak. I must assume you 
 would tell the truth. I refuse to suppose you would 
 commit perjury." 
 
 " I should hold my tongue," said Mina. 
 
 " Then you'd be sent to prison for contempt of 
 court." 
 
 The bluff worked well. Mina knew nothing at all 
 of what Harry Tristram would do, or might do, or 
 must do, of what the law would, or might, or might 
 not do, in the circumstances supposed. And Iver 
 
 [193]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 spoke as though he knew everything-, with a weighty 
 confidence, with an admirable air of considered 
 candor. She was no match for him ; she grew rather 
 pale, her lips twitched, and her breath came quick. 
 Tears were no longer to be treated merely as a pos- 
 sible poHcy; they threatened to occur of their own 
 accord. 
 
 What wonder that a feeling of intolerable meanness 
 attacked Mr Jenkinson Neeld ? He was on the wrong 
 side of the table, on the bench instead of in the dock. 
 He sat there judging ; his proper place was side by 
 side with the criminal, in charge of the same police- 
 man, wearing the handcuffs too. And he had less 
 excuse for his crime than she. He was even more in 
 Iver's debt; he had eaten his bread these weeks past; 
 even now he was pretending to be his adviser and his 
 witness; his deception was deeper than hers. Be- 
 sides he was not a young woman who might find excuse 
 in the glamour of Harry's position or the attraction of 
 Harry's eyes; he was not a romantic young woman; 
 he was only a romantic old fool. He could bear it no 
 longer. He must speak. He could not get into the 
 dock beside her — for that would throw away the case 
 which she was defending so gallantly — but he must 
 speak a word for her. 
 
 " In my opinion," he said nervously, but not with- 
 out his usual precision, " we can carry this matter no 
 further. Madame Zabriska declines to speak. I may 
 say that I understand and respect the motive which I 
 believe inspires her. She regrets her idle words. She 
 thinks that by repeating them she would give them 
 greater importance. She does not wish to assume 
 responsibility. She leaves the matter in your hands, 
 Iver. It is not her affair; she had no reason to sup- 
 pose that it would be yours. By a train of events for 
 which she is not accountable the question has become 
 
 [194J
 
 An Inquisition Interrupted 
 
 of importance to you. In her view it is for you to take 
 your own steps. She stands aside." 
 
 " She's my friend, she's my daughter's friend. The 
 question is whether my daughter marries Lord Tris- 
 tram of Blent or an impostor (whether voluntary or 
 involuntary) without a name, an acre, or, so far as I 
 know, a shilling. She can help me. She stands aside. 
 You think her right, Neeld ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do," said the old gentleman with the 
 promptness of desperation. 
 
 " Then your idea of friendship differs diametrically 
 from mine. I desire no such friends as that." 
 
 It is to be hoped that the sting of Iver's remark was 
 somewhat mitigated by Mina's covertly telegraphed 
 gratitude. Yet Neeld was no happier after his effort 
 than before it. A silence fell on them all. Mina 
 glanced from her uncle's face to Iver's. Both men 
 were stern and gloomy. Her sense of heroism barely 
 supported her ; things were so very uncomfortable. 
 If Harry could know what she suffered for him, it 
 would be something. But Mina had an idea that 
 Harry was thinking very little about her. Moreover, 
 in taking sides in a controversy, perhaps the most im- 
 portant practical question is — whom has one got to 
 live with? She had to live not with Harry Tristram, 
 but with that glowering uncle. Major Duplay. Agree 
 with your enemy whiles you are in the house with him, 
 even more than whiles you are in the way. 
 
 At this point — the deadlock demanded by the 
 canons of art having been reached by the force of cir- 
 cumstances and the clash of wills — enter the Dcus ex 
 Machina, in the shape of a pretty parlormaid in a 
 black gown and white apron, with a bow of pink rib- 
 bon at her neck ; instead of the car, a silver salver, and 
 on it a single letter. 
 
 " For you, ma'am," said the Dens, and with a glance 
 
 [195I
 
 Tristi^am <?/* Blent 
 
 at Neeld (merely because he was a man and a stranger) 
 she ended her brief but momentous appearance on 
 the stage. 
 
 The Imp was in no mood for ceremony ; one glance 
 at the handwriting, and she tore the envelope open 
 eagerly. Iver was whispering to Duplay. Neeld's 
 eyes were on the ceiling, because he did not know 
 where else he could direct them with any sense of 
 safety. 
 
 Mina read. A gasp of breath from her brought 
 Neeld's eyes down from their refuge and stayed Iver 
 and the Major's whispered talk. She gazed from one 
 to the other of them. She had flushed red ; her face 
 was very agitated and showed a great stress of feeling. 
 Duplay with an exclamation of surprise put out his 
 hand for the letter. But Mina kept hers on it, pinning 
 it immovably to the table. For another minute she 
 sat there, facing the three. Then all composure failed 
 her ; she burst into tears, and bowing her head to meet 
 her arms on the table, covering the letter with her hair, 
 she sobbed violently. 
 
 The fort she had been defending was betrayed from 
 within. For some reason unknown, unguessable, 
 the champion she fought for had fled from the fight. 
 And the few words of his message — aye, and that he 
 should send a message to her — pierced her to the 
 heart. Strained already by her battle, she was broken 
 down by this sudden end to it, this sudden and dis- 
 astrous end. 
 
 " I can't help it, I can't help it," the men heard her 
 say between her sobs. 
 
 Her apology did nothing to reHeve their extreme 
 discomfort. AH three felt brutal ; even the Major's 
 face lost its gloomy fierceness and relaxed into an em- 
 barrassed solicitude. " Ought we to call the maid ? " 
 he whispered. " Poor child ! " murmured Neeld. 
 
 [196]
 
 An Inquisition Interrupted 
 
 The sobs dominated these timid utterances. Was it 
 they who had brought her to this state, or was it the 
 letter? Iver stirred uneasily in his chair, his business 
 manner and uncharitable shrewdness suddenly seem- 
 ing out of place. " Give her time," he said gently. 
 " Give her time, poor girl." 
 
 Mina raised her head ; tears ran down her cheeks ; 
 she was woe personified. 
 
 " Time's no use," she groaned. " It's all over 
 now." 
 
 Neeld caught at the state of affairs by an intuition to 
 which his previous knowledge helped him. Duplay 
 had been baffled by Harry's diplomacy and expected 
 no action from his side. To Neeld such a development 
 seemed possible, and it was the only thing which to 
 his mind could throw light on Mina's behavior. 
 
 "Won't you show us the letter?" he asked gently. 
 
 " Oh, yes. And I'll tell you anything you like now. 
 Tf doesn't matter now." She looked at Neeld ; she was 
 loyal to the end. " I was the only person who knew 
 it," she said to Iver. 
 
 That was too much. Timid he might be, even to the 
 point of cowardice; but now, when the result of con- 
 fession would be no harm to anybody but himself, 
 Neeld felt he must speak if he were to have any 
 chance of going on thinking himself a gentleman — and 
 it is an unpleasant thing for a man to realize that he has 
 none. 
 
 " I must correct Madame Zabriska," he said. " I 
 knew it too." 
 
 " What ? " cried Duplay. Iver turned quick scru- 
 tinizing eyes on his friend. 
 
 " You knew too ? You knew what ? " he demanded. 
 
 " The facts we have been endeavoring to obtain 
 from Madame Zabriska." 
 
 " The facts about " 
 
 [197]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " Oh, it's all in the letter," cried Mina in a quick 
 burst of impatience, " There it is." 
 
 She flung it across to Iver and rested her chin on her 
 hands, while her eyes followed his expression as he 
 read. Duplay was all excitement, but old Mr Neeld 
 had sunk back in his chair with a look of fretful weari- 
 ness. Iver was deliberate ; his glasses needed some 
 fitting on ; the sheet of paper required some smooth- 
 ing after its contact with Mina's disordered and dis- 
 ordering hair. Besides, he was really as excited as 
 Duplay and almost as agitated as Mina herself. But 
 these emotions are not appropriate to business men. 
 So he was very calm and deliberate in his demeanor; 
 he might have been going to deliver a whole speech 
 from the way he cleared his throat. 
 
 " I have thrown up the sponge and fled. Please 
 make friends with Lady Tristram of Blent. — H. T." 
 
 It was enough. What need of further witness ? And 
 if there had been, the principal criminal had confessed 
 and the lips of his accomplices were unsealed. 
 
 For a while nobody spoke. Then Neeld, leaning 
 forward to the table again, began to explain and ex- 
 cuse his silence, to speak of the hard case he was in, of 
 the accidental and confidential character of his knowl- 
 edge. Neither Mina nor her uncle even appeared to 
 heed him. Iver seemed to listen patiently and cour- 
 teously, but his mind too was distracted, and he did 
 not cease fidgeting with Harry Tristram's letter and 
 referring ever and again to its brief sufficient message. 
 " I dare say I was wrong. The position was very 
 difficult," pleaded Neeld. 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Iver in an absent tone. " Difficult 
 no doubt, Neeld ; both for you and Mina. And now 
 he has — he has given up the game himself! Or was 
 his hand forced ? " 
 
 " No," flashed out Mina, restored in a moment to 
 
 [198]
 
 An Inquisition Interrupted 
 
 animation, her fighting instincts awake again. " He'd 
 never have been forced. He must have done it of his 
 own accord." 
 
 "But why?" Again he returned to the letter. 
 " And why does he write to you? " 
 
 " Because he knew I knew about it. He didn't 
 know that Mr Neeld did." 
 
 " And this — this Lady Tristram of Blent ? " Iver's 
 voice was hesitating and conscious as he pronounced 
 >he name that was to have become his daughter's. 
 
 Again the pink-ribboned Dens made entry on the 
 scene, to give the speaker a more striking answer. 
 
 " A lady to see you, ma'am. Miss Gainsborough." 
 
 The three men sprang to their feet ; with a sudden 
 ■wrench Mina turned her chair round toward the door. 
 A tall slim girl in black came in with a quick yet hesi- 
 tating step. 
 
 " Forgive me, Madame Zabriska. But I had to 
 come. Harry said you were his friend. Do you know 
 anything about him? Do you know where he is?" 
 She looked at the men and blushed as she returned 
 their bow with a hurried recognition. 
 
 " No, I haven't seen him. I know nothing," said 
 Mina. 
 
 " The letter, Mina," Duplay reminded her, and Mina 
 held it out to Cecily. 
 
 Cecily came forward, took and read it. She looked 
 again at the group, evidently puzzled. 
 
 " He doesn't say where he's gone,'' she said. 
 
 "You are ?" Tver began. 
 
 " I'm Cecily Gainsborough. But I think he means 
 me when he says Lady Tristram of Blent." 
 
 " Yes, he must mean you. Miss Gainsborough." 
 
 " Yes, because last night he told me — it was so 
 strange, but he wouldn't have done it unless it was 
 true — he told me that he wasn't Lord Tristram really, 
 
 [199]
 
 Tristram (9/^ Blent 
 
 and that I " Her eyes travelled quickly over their 
 
 faces, and she re-read the letter. " Do you know any- 
 thing about it?" she demanded imperiously. "Tell 
 me, do you know what he means by this letter and 
 whether what he says is true ? " 
 
 " We know what he means," answered Iver gravely, 
 " and we know that it's true." 
 
 " Have you known it long? " she asked. 
 
 Iver glanced at Duplay and Neeld. It was Neeld 
 who answered gently : " Some of us have been sure 
 
 of it for some time. But " He looked at Mina 
 
 before he went on. " But we didn't intend to speak." 
 
 Cecily stood there, seeming to consider and for a 
 moment meeting Mina's intense gaze which had never 
 left her face, 
 
 " Had he known for long? " was her next question. 
 
 It met with no immediate answer. Duplay rose 
 abruptly and walked to the mantelpiece ; he leant his 
 arm on it and turned half away from the group at the 
 table. 
 
 " Had he known for long? " Cecily repeated. 
 
 " Ever so long," answered Mina Zabriska in a low 
 voice, but very confidently. 
 
 "Ah, he was waiting till Lady Tristram died?" 
 
 Iver nodded ; he thought what she suggested a very 
 good explanation to accept. It was plausible and 
 sensible ; it equipped Harry Tristram with a decent 
 excuse for his past silence, and a sound reason for the 
 moment of his disclosure. He looked at Neeld and 
 found ready acquiescence in the old gentleman's ap- 
 proving nod. But Mina broke out impatiently — 
 
 " No, no, that had nothing to do with it. He never 
 meant to speak. Blent was all the world to him. He 
 never meant to speak." A quick remembrance flashed 
 across her. " Were you with him in the Long Gallery 
 last night ? " she cried. " With him there for hours ? " 
 
 [200]
 
 An iNguisiTioN Interrupted 
 
 " Yes, we were there." 
 
 " Yes, I saw you from the terrace here. Did he tell 
 you there? " 
 
 " He told me there." There was embarrassment as 
 well as wonder in her manner now. 
 
 " Well then, you must know why he told you. We 
 don't know." Mina was very peevish. 
 
 " Is it any use asking ? " Iver began. An uncere- 
 moniously impatient and peremptory wave of Mina's 
 arm reduced him to silence. Her curiosity left no 
 room for his prudent counsels of reticence. 
 
 " What were you doing in the Gallery ? " demanded 
 Mina. 
 
 " I was looking at all the things there and — and ad- 
 miring them. He came up presently and — I don't re- 
 member that he said very much. He watched me ; then 
 he asked me if I loved the things. And — well, then he 
 told me. He told me and went straight out of the 
 room. I waited a long while, but he didn't come back, 
 and I haven't spoken to him since." She looked at 
 each of them in turn as though someone might be 
 able to help her with the puzzle. 
 
 " Somehow you made him do it — you," said Mina 
 Zabriska. 
 
 Slowly Cecily's eyes settled on Mina's face; thus 
 she stood silent for a full minute. 
 
 " Yes, I think so. I think I must have somehow." 
 Her voice rose as she asked with a sudden access of 
 agitation, " But what are we to do now? " 
 
 Mina had no thought for that ; it was the thing itself 
 that engrossed her, not the consequences. 
 
 " There will, of course, be a good many formalities," 
 said Iver. " Subject to those, I imagine that the — er — 
 question settles itself." 
 
 His phrase seemed to give Cecily no enHghtenment. 
 
 " Settles itself? " she repeated. 
 
 [201]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " Subject to formal proof, I mean, and in the absence 
 of opposition from" (he hesitated a second) " — from 
 Mr Tristram, which can't be anticipated now, you will 
 be put into possession of the estates and the title." He 
 pointed to Harry's letter which was still in her hands. 
 " You see what he himself calls you there. Miss Gains- 
 borough." 
 
 She made no answer. With another glance at Neeld, 
 Iver pushed back his chair and rose. Neeld followed 
 his example. They felt that the interview had better 
 end. Duplay did not move, and Cecily stood where she 
 was. She seemed to ask what was to be done with her ; 
 her desolation was sad, but it had something of the 
 comic in it. She was so obviously lost. 
 
 " You might walk down to Blent with Miss Gains- 
 borough, Mina," Iver suggested. 
 
 " No," cried the Imp in a passion, leaping up from 
 her chair. " I don't want to have anything to do with 
 her." 
 
 Cecily started and her cheeks flushed red as though 
 she had been struck. Iver looked vexed and ashamed. 
 
 " It's all her fault that Harry Tristram's — that Harry 
 
 Tristram's " The Imp's voice was choked ; she 
 
 could get no further. 
 
 Old Mr Neeld came forward. He took Harry's let- 
 ter from Cecily and gave it to Mina. 
 
 " My dear, my dear ! " he said gently, as he patted her 
 hand. " Read that again." 
 
 Mina read, and then scrutinized Cecily keenly. 
 
 " Well, I'll walk down with you," she said grudging- 
 ly. She came nearer to Cecily. " I wonder what you 
 did ! " she exclaimed, scanning her face. " I must find 
 out what you did ! " 
 
 Iver came forward. " I must introduce myself to you, 
 Miss Gainsborough, I live at Blentmouth, and my 
 name is Iver." 
 
 [202]
 
 An Inquisition Interrupted 
 
 « 
 
 Iver ! " She looked at him curiously. At once he 
 felt that she had knowledge of the relation between his 
 daughter and Harry Tristram. 
 
 " Yes, and since we shall probably be neighbors " 
 
 He held out his hand. She put hers into it, still with 
 a bewildered air. Neeld contented himself with a bow 
 as he passed her, and Duplay escaped from the room 
 with a rapidity and stillness suggestive of a desire not to 
 be observed. When the men were gone Cecily sank 
 into a chair and covered her face with her hands for a 
 minute. She looked up to find Mina regarding her, 
 still with mingled inquisitiveness and hostility. 
 
 " What were you all doing here when I came ? " asked 
 Cecily. 
 
 " They were trying to make me tell what I knew 
 about Harry Tristram. But I wouldn't tell." 
 
 " Wouldn't you ? " Cecily's eyes sparkled in sudden 
 approval, and she broke into a smile. " I Hke you for 
 that," she cried. " I wouldn't have told either." 
 
 " But now ! " The Imp pouted disconsolately. 
 
 " Well, it's not your fault, I suppose, and " She 
 
 walked up to Cecily and gave her a brief but friendly 
 kiss. " And you needn't be so upset as all that about 
 it. We'll just talk over what we'd better do." 
 
 There was not much prospect of their talk afifecting 
 either the laws of England or the determination of 
 Harry Tristram to any appreciable extent. But the 
 proposal seemed to comfort Cecily ; and the Imp rang 
 the bell for tea. Coming back from this task, she gave 
 Cecily a critical glance. 
 
 " You'll look it anyhow," she concluded with a re- 
 luctant smile. 
 
 Meanwhile Iver and Nccld drove back to Blent- 
 mouth. Ivor said nothing about his friend's bygone 
 treachery ; oddly enough it was not in the culprit's 
 mind either. 
 
 [203]
 
 Tristram <9/'Blent 
 
 " Now, Neeld, to break this news to Janie ! " said 
 Iver. 
 
 Neeld nodded once again. 
 
 But of course a situation quite other than they ex- 
 pected awaited them at Fairholme. 
 
 [204]
 
 XVI 
 
 The New Life 
 
 ""^ TOU haven't mentioned it to the young man him- 
 
 ^f self ? " asked Lady Evenswood. 
 M " Certainly not. I've only seen him once, and 
 then he didn't talk of his own affairs. He takes the 
 thing very well. He's lost his position and he's the 
 hero of the newspapers, and he bears both afflictions 
 quite coolly. A lad of good balance, I think." 
 
 " Is he agreeable? " 
 
 " Hum, I'm not sure of that. No excess of modesty, 
 I fancy." 
 
 " I suppose you mean he's not shy? All young men 
 are conceited. I think I should like you to bring him to 
 see me." 
 
 For forty years such an intimation from Lady Evens- 
 wood had enjoyed the rank of a command ; Lord South- 
 end received it with proper obedience. 
 
 " The solution I spoke of has occurred to some of 
 us," he went on. " He's poor now, but with that he 
 could make a marriage. The case is very excep- 
 tional " 
 
 " So is what you propose, George." 
 
 " Oh, there are precedents. It was done in the Bears- 
 dale case." 
 
 " There was a doubt there." Lady Evenswood knew 
 all about the Bearsdale case ; though it was ancient 
 history to Southend, she had danced with both the par- 
 ties to it. 
 
 "The House was against the marriage unanimously." 
 But he did not deny the doubt. 
 
 " Well, what are you going to do? " she asked. 
 
 [205]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " It would be necessary to approach Disney." South- 
 end spoke with some appearance of timidity. Mr Dis- 
 ney was Prime Minister. " And the truth is, none of 
 us seemed to Uke the job. So John Fullcombe sug- 
 gested you." 
 
 " What brave men you are ! " Her face wrinkled 
 humorously. 
 
 " Well, he might bite us, and he couldn't bite you — 
 not so hard anyhow." 
 
 " And you want me to ask for a higher rank ! That 
 wasn't done in the Bearsdale case, nor in any other that 
 I ever heard of." 
 
 " We shouldn't press that. A barony would do. But 
 if Disney thought that under the very exceptional cir- 
 cumstances a viscounty " 
 
 -* I don't see why you want it," she persisted. The 
 slight embarrassment in Southend's manner stirred the 
 old lady's curiosity. " It's rather odd to reward a man 
 
 for his mother's . There, I don't say a word about 
 
 Addie. I took her to her first ball, poor girl." 
 
 " Disney used to know her as a girl." 
 
 " If you're relying on Robert Disney's romantic 
 
 memories " But she stopped, adding after a pause, 
 
 " Well, one never knows. But again, why a vis- 
 county ? " 
 
 Driven into a corner, but evidently rather ashamed of 
 himself, Southend explained. 
 
 " The viscounty would be more convenient if a match 
 came about between him and the girl." 
 
 " What, the new Lady Tristram ? Well, George, 
 romance has taken possession of you to-day ! " 
 
 " Not at all," he protested indignantly. " It's the 
 obviously sensible way out." 
 
 " Then they can do it without a viscounty." 
 
 " Oh, no, not without something. There's the past, 
 you see." 
 
 [206]
 
 The New Life 
 
 "And a sponge is wanted? And the bigger the 
 sponge the better? And I'm to get my nose bitten off 
 by asking Robert Disney for it ? And if by a miracle 
 he said yes, for all I know somebody else might say 
 no!" 
 
 This dark reference to the Highest Quarters caused 
 Southend to nod thoughtfully: they discussed the 
 probable attitude — a theme too exalted to be more than 
 mentioned here. " Anyhow the first thing is to sound 
 Disney," continued Southend. 
 
 " I'll think about it after I've seen the young man," 
 Lady Evenswood promised. " Have you any reason to 
 suppose he likes his cousin? " 
 
 " None at all — except, of course, the way he's cleared 
 out for her." 
 
 " Yielding gracefully to necessity, I suppose? " 
 
 " Really, I doubt the necessity ; and, anyhow, the 
 gracefulness needs some explanation in a case like this. 
 Still I always fancied he was going to marry another 
 girl, a daughter of a friend of mine — Iver — you know 
 who I mean? " 
 
 " Oh, yes. Bring Harry Tristram to see me," said 
 she. " Good-by, George. You're looking very well." 
 
 " And you're looking very young." 
 
 " Oh, I finished getting old before you were forty." 
 
 A thought struck Southend. " You might suggest 
 the viscounty as contingent on the marriage." 
 
 " I shan't suggest anything till I've seen the boy — 
 and I won't promise to then." 
 
 Later in the afternoon Southend dropped in at the 
 Imperium, where to his surprise and pleasure he found 
 Iver in the smoking-room. Asked how he came to be 
 in town, Iver explained : 
 
 " I really ran awav from the cackling down at Blent- 
 mouth. All our old ladies arc talking fifteen to the 
 dozen about Harry Tristram, and Lady Tristram, and 
 
 [207]
 
 Tristram y'' Blent 
 
 me, and my family, and — well, I dare say you're in it by 
 now, Southend ! There's an old cat named Swinker- 
 ton, who is positively beyond human endurance; she 
 waylays me in the street. And Mrs Trumbler, the 
 vicar's wife, comes and talks about Providence to my 
 poor wife every day. So I fled." 
 
 " Leaving your wife behind, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Oh, she doesn't mind Mrs Trumbler. But I do." 
 
 " Well, there's a good deal of cackling up here too. 
 But tell me about the new girl." Lord Southend did 
 not appear to consider his own question " cackling " or 
 as tending to produce the same. 
 
 " I've only seen her once. She's in absolute seclusion 
 and lets nobody in except Mina Zabriska — a funny little 
 foreign woman — You don't know her." 
 
 " I know about her, I saw it in the paper. She had 
 something to do with it ? " 
 
 " Yes." Iver passed away from that side of the sub- 
 ject immediately. " And she's struck up a friendship 
 with Cecily Gainsborough — Lady Tristram, I ought to 
 say. I had a few words with the father. The poor old 
 chap doesn't know whether he's on his head or his 
 heels ; but as they're of about equal value, I should 
 imagine, for thinking purposes, it doesn't much matter. 
 Ah, here's Neeld. He came up with me." 
 
 The advent of Neeld produced more discussion. Yet 
 Southend said nothing of the matter which he had 
 brought to Lady Evenswood's attention. Discretion 
 was necessary there. Besides he wished to know how 
 the land lay as to Janie Iver. On that subject his friend 
 preserved silence. 
 
 " And the whole thing was actually in old Joe's 
 diary ! " exclaimed Southend. 
 
 Neeld, always annoyed at the " Joe," admitted that 
 the main facts had been recorded in Mr Cholderton's 
 Journal, and that he himself had known them when 
 
 [208]
 
 The New Life 
 
 nobody else in England did — save, of course, the con- 
 spirators themselves. 
 
 " And you kept it dark ? I didn't know you were as 
 deep as that, Neeld." He looked at the old gentleman 
 with great amazement. 
 
 " Neeld was in an exceedingly difficult position," said 
 Iver. " I've come to see that." He paused, looking at 
 Southend with an amused air. " You introduced us to 
 one another," he reminded him with a smile. 
 
 " Bless my soul, so I did ! I'd forgotten. Well, it 
 seems my fate too to be mixed up in the affair." Just 
 at present, however, he was assisting fate rather ac- 
 tively. 
 
 " It's everybody's. The Blent's on fire from Ming- 
 ham to the sea." 
 
 " I've seen Harry Tristram." 
 
 " Ah, how is he ? " asked Neeld. 
 
 " Never saw a young man more composed in all my 
 life. And he couldn't be better satisfied with himself if 
 he'd turned out to be a duke." 
 
 " We know Harry's airs," Iver said, smiling indul- 
 gently. " But there's stuff in him." A note of regret 
 came into his voice. " He treated me very badly — I 
 know Neeld won't admit it, but he did. Still I like 
 him and I'd help him if I could." 
 
 " Well, he atoned for anything wrong by owning up 
 in the end," remarked Southend. 
 
 " That wasn't for my sake or for Well, it had 
 
 nothing to do with us. As far as we were concerned 
 he'd be at Blent to-day. It was Cecily Gainsborough 
 who did it." 
 
 "Yes. I wonder " 
 
 Iver rose decisively. " Look here, Southend, if 
 you're going to do exactly what all my friends and 
 neighbors, beginning with Miss Swinkcrton, arc doing, 
 I shall go and write letters." With a nod he walked 
 
 [209]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 into the next room, leaving Neeld alone with his in- 
 quisitive friend. Southend lost no time. 
 
 "What's happened about Janie Iver? There was 
 some talk " 
 
 " It's all over," whispered Neeld with needless cau- 
 tion. " He released her, and she accepted the release." 
 
 " What, on the ground that ? " 
 
 " Really I don't know any more. But it's finally 
 over; you may depend upon that." 
 
 Southend lit a cigar with a satisfied air. On the 
 whole he was glad to hear the news. 
 
 " Staying much longer in town ? " he asked. 
 
 " No, I'm going down to Tver's again in August." 
 
 " You want to see the end of it ? Come, I know that's 
 it ! " He laughed as he walked away. 
 
 Meanwhile Harry Tristram, unconscious of the ef- 
 forts which were being made to arrange his future, and 
 paying as little attention as he could to the buzz of gos- 
 sip about his past, had settled down in quiet rooms and 
 was looking at the world from a new point of view. He 
 was in seclusion like his cousin ; the mourning they 
 shared for Addie Tristram was sufficient excuse ; and 
 he found his chief pleasure in wandering about the 
 streets. The season was not over yet, and he liked to 
 go out about eight in the evening and watch the great 
 city starting forth to enjoy itself. Then he could feel 
 its life in all the rush and the gayety of it. Somehow 
 now he seemed more part of it and more at home in it 
 than when he used to run up for a few days from his 
 country home. Then Blent had been the centre of his 
 life, and in town he was but a stranger and a sojourner. 
 Blent was gone ; and London is home to homeless 
 men. There was a suggestion for him in the air of it, 
 an impulse that was gradually but strongly urging him 
 to action, telling him that he must begin to do. For 
 the moment he was notorious, but the talk and the star- 
 
 [2ioj
 
 The New Life 
 
 ing would be over soon — the sooner the better, he 
 added most sincerely. Then he must do something if 
 he wished still to be, or ever again to be, anybody. 
 Otherwise he could expect no more than to be pointed 
 out now and then to the curious as the man who had 
 once been Tristram of Blent and had ceased to be such 
 in a puzzling manner. 
 
 As he looked back, he seemed to himself to have lived 
 hitherto on the banks of the river of life as well as of the 
 river Blent ; there had been no need of swimming. 
 But he was in the current now ; he must swim or sink. 
 This idea took shape as he watched the carriages, the 
 lines of scampering hansoms, the crowds waiting at 
 theatre doors. Every man and every vehicle, every 
 dandy and every urchin, represented some effort, if 
 it were only at one end of the scale to be magnificent, 
 at the other not to be hungry. No such notions had 
 been fostered bv days spent on the banks of the Blent. 
 " What shall I do? What shall I do? " The question 
 hummed in his brain as he walked about. There were 
 such infinite varieties of things to do, such a multitude 
 of people doing them. To some men this reflection 
 brings despair or bewilderment ; to Harry (as indeed 
 Lord Southend would have expected from his observa- 
 tion of him) it was a titillating evidence of great op- 
 portunities, stirring his mind to a busy consideration 
 of chances. Thus then it seemed as though Blent 
 might fall into the background, his loved Blent. Per- 
 haps his not thinking of it had begun in wilfulness, 
 or even in fear ; but he found the rule he had made 
 far easier to keep than he had ever expected. There 
 had been a sort of release for his mind ; he had not 
 foreseen this as a possible result of his great sacrifice. 
 He even felt rather richer ; which seemed a strange 
 paradox, till he reflected that the owners of Blent had 
 seldom been able to lay hands readily on a fluid sum 
 
 [211]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 of fifteen thousand pounds, subject to no claims for 
 houses to be repaired, buildings to be maintained, 
 cottages to be built, wages to be paid, and the dozen 
 other ways in which money disperses itself over the 
 surface of a landed estate. He had fifteen thousand 
 pounds in form as good as cash. He was living.more 
 or less as he had once meant to live in this one par- 
 ticular ; he was living with a respectable if not a big 
 check by him, ready for any emergency which might 
 arise — an emergency not now of a danger to be warded 
 off, but of an opportunity to be seized. 
 
 These new thoughts suited well with the visit which 
 he paid to Lady Evenswood and gained fresh strength 
 from it. His pride and independence had made him 
 hesitate about going. Southend, amazed yet half ad- 
 miring, had been obliged to plead, reminding him that 
 it was not merely a woman nor merely a woman of 
 rank who wished to make his acquaintance, but also 
 a very old woman who had known his mother as a child. 
 He further offered his own company, so that the inter- 
 view might assume a less formal aspect. Harry de- 
 clined the company but yielded to the plea. He was 
 announced as Mr Tristram. He had just taken steps 
 to obtain a Royal License to bear the name. Southend 
 had chuckled again half admiringly over that. 
 
 Although the room was in deep shadow and very 
 still, and the old white-haired lady the image of peace, 
 for Harry there too the current ran strong. Though 
 not great, she had known the great ; if she had not done 
 the things, she had seen them done ; her talk revealed 
 a matter-of-course knowledge of secrets, a natural in- 
 timacy with the inaccessible. It was Hke Harry to 
 show no signs of being impressed ; but very shrewd eyes 
 were upon him, and his impassivity met with amused 
 approval since it stopped short of inattention. She 
 broke it down at last by speaking of Addie Tristram. 
 
 [212]
 
 The New Life 
 
 " The most fascinating creature in the world," she 
 said. " I knew her as a little girl. I knew her up to 
 the time of your birth almost. After that she hardly 
 left Blent, did she ? At least she never came to Lon- 
 don. You travelled, I know." 
 
 " Were you ever at Blent ? " he asked. 
 
 "No, Mr Tristram." 
 
 He frowned for a moment ; it was odd not to be able 
 to ask people there, just too as he was awaking to the 
 number of people there were in the world worth asking. 
 
 " There never was anybody in the world like her, and 
 there never will be," Lady Evensvvood went on. 
 
 " I used to think that ; but I was wrong." The smile 
 that Mina Zabriska knew came on his face. 
 
 " You were wrong? Who's like her then? " 
 
 " Her successor. My cousin Cecily's very like her." 
 
 Lady Evenswood was more struck by the way he 
 spoke than by the meaning of what he said. She wanted 
 to say " Bravo," and to pat him on the back ; he had 
 avoided so entirely any hesitation or affectation in nam- 
 ing his cousin — Addie Tristram's successor who had 
 superseded him. 
 
 " She talks and moves and sits and looks at you in 
 the same way. I was amazed to see it." He had said 
 not a word of this to anybody since he left Blent. Lady 
 Evenswood, studying him very curiously, began to 
 make conjectures about the history of the affair, also 
 about what lay behind her visitor's composed face ; 
 there was a hint of things suppressed in his voice. But 
 he had the bridle on himself again in a moment. " Very 
 curious these likenesses are," he ended with a shrug. 
 
 She decided that he was remarkable, for a boy of his 
 age, bred in the country, astonishing. She had heard 
 her father describe Pitt at twenty-one and Byron at 
 eighteen. Without making absurd comparisons, there 
 was, all the same, something of that precocity of man- 
 
 [213]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 hood here, something also of the arrogance that the 
 great men had exhibited. She was very glad that she 
 had sent for him. 
 
 " I don't want to be impertinent," she said (she had 
 not meant to make even this much apology), " but per- 
 haps an old woman may tell you that she is very sorry 
 for — for this turn in your fortunes, Mr Tristram." 
 
 " You're very kind. It was all my own doing, you 
 know. Nobody could have touched me." 
 
 " But that would have meant ?" she exclaimed, 
 
 startled into candor. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I know. Still — but since things have 
 turned out differently, I needn't trouble you with that." 
 
 She saw the truth, seeming to learn it from the set 
 of his jaw. She enjoyed a man who was not afraid 
 to defy things, and she had been heard to lament that 
 everybody had a conscience nowadays — nay, insisted 
 on bringing it even into politics. She wanted to hear 
 more — much more now — about his surrender, and rec- 
 ognized as a new tribute to Harry the fact that she 
 could not question him. Immediately she conceived 
 the idea of inviting him to dinner to meet Mr Disney ; 
 but of course that must wait for a little while. 
 
 " Everything must seem rather strange to you? " she 
 suggested. 
 
 " Yes, very," he answered thoughtfully. " I'm be- 
 ginning to think that some day I shall look back on my 
 boyhood with downright incredulity. I shan't seem to 
 have been that boy in the least." 
 
 " What are you going to do in the meantime, to pro- 
 cure that feeling? " She was getting to the point she 
 wished to arrive at, but very cautiously. 
 
 " I don't know yet. It's hard to choose," 
 
 " You certainly won't want for friends." 
 
 " Yes, that's pleasant, of course." He seemed to 
 hint, however, that he did not regard it as very useful. 
 
 [214]
 
 The New Life 
 
 " Oh, and serviceable too," she corrected him, with 
 a nod of wise experience. " Jobs are frowned at now, 
 but many great men have started by means of them. 
 Robert Disney himself came in for a pocket-borough." 
 
 " Well, I really don't know," he repeated thought- 
 fully, but with no'sign of anxiety or fretting. " There's 
 lots of time, Lady Evenswood." 
 
 " Not for me," she said with all her graciousness. 
 
 He smiled again, this time cordially, as he rose tc 
 take leave. But she detained him. 
 
 " You're on friendlv terms with your cousin, I sup- 
 r>ose?" 
 
 " Certainly, if we meet. Of course I haven't seen 
 her since I left Blent. She's there, you know." 
 
 " Have you written to her? " 
 
 " No. I think it's best not to ask her to think of me 
 just now." 
 
 She looked at him a moment, seeming to consider. 
 
 " Perhaps,"' she said at last. " But don't over-do 
 that. Don't be cruel." 
 
 " Cruel ? " There was strong surprise in his voice 
 and on his face. 
 
 " Yes, cruel. Have you ever troubled to think what 
 she may be feeling? " 
 
 " I don't know that I ever have," Harry admitted 
 slowly. " At first sight it looks as if I were the person 
 who might be supposed to be feeling." 
 
 " At first sight, yes. Is that always to be enough 
 for you, Mr Tristram? If so, I shan't regret so much 
 that I haven't — lots of time." 
 
 He stood silent before her for several seconds. 
 
 " Yes, I see. Perhaps. I daresay I can find out 
 something about it. After all, I've given some evi- 
 dence of consideration for h.cr." 
 
 " That makes it worse if you give none now. Good- 
 by." 
 
 [2iSl
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " It's less than a fortnight since I first met her. She 
 won't miss me much, Lady Evenswood." 
 
 " Time's everything, isn't it ? Oh, you're not stupid ! 
 Think it over, Mr Tristram. Now good-by. And 
 don't conchide I shan't think about you because it's 
 only an hour since we met. We women are curious. 
 When you've nothing better to do it'll pay you to study 
 us." 
 
 As Harry walked down from her house in Green 
 Street, his thoughts were divided between the new life 
 and that old one which she had raised again before his 
 eyes by her reference to Cecily. The balance was 
 turned in favor of Blent by the sight of a man who was 
 associated in his mind with it — Sloyd, the house-agent 
 who had let Merrion Lodge to Mina Zabriska. Sloyd 
 was as smart as usual, but he was walking along in a 
 dejected way, and his hat was unfashionably far back 
 on his head. He started when he saw Harry approach- 
 ing him. 
 
 " Why, it's " he began, and stopped in evident 
 
 hesitation. 
 
 " Mr Tristram," said Harry. " Glad to meet you, 
 Mr Sloyd, though you won't have any more rent to 
 hand over to me." 
 
 Sloyd began to murmur some rather flowery con- 
 dolences. 
 
 Harry cut him short in a peremptory but good- 
 natured fashion. 
 
 " How's business with you?" he asked. 
 
 " Might be worse, Mr Tristram. I don't complain. 
 We're a young firm, and we don't command the oppor- 
 tunities that others do." He laughed as he added, 
 " You couldn't recommend me to a gentleman with 
 ten thousand pounds to spare, could you, Mr Tris- 
 tram?" 
 
 *' I know just the man. What's it for ? " 
 
 [216]
 
 The New Life 
 
 " No, no. Principals only," said Sloyd with a shake 
 of his head. 
 
 " How does one become a principal then? I'll walk 
 your way a bit." Harry lit a cigar ; Sloyd became more 
 erect and amended the position of his hat ; he hoped 
 that a good many people would recognize Harry. Yet 
 social pride did not interfere with business wariness. 
 
 "Are you in earnest, Air Tristram? It's a safe 
 thing." 
 
 " Oh, no, it isn't, or you wouldn't be hunting for ten 
 thousand on the pavement of Berkeley Square." 
 
 '' I'll trust you," Sloyd declared. Harry nodded 
 thanks, inwardly amused at the obvious effort which 
 attended the concession. " If you don't come in, you'll 
 not give it away ? " Again Harry nodded. " It's a big 
 chance, but we haven't got the money to take it, and 
 unless we can take it we shall have to sell our rights. 
 It's an option on land. I secured it, but it's out in a 
 week. Before then we must table twenty thousand. 
 And ten cleans us out." 
 
 " What'll happen if you don't? " 
 
 " I must sell the option — rather than forfeit it, you 
 know. I've an offer for it, but a starvation one." 
 
 " Who from ? " 
 
 After a moment's scrutiny Sloyd whispered a name 
 of immense significance in such a connection : " Iver." 
 
 " I should like to hear some more about this. It's 
 worth something, I expect, if Iver wants it. Shall I 
 go with you to your office ? " He hailed a passing cab. 
 " I've got the money," he said, " and I want to use it. 
 You show me that this is a good thing, and in it goes." 
 
 An hour passed in the office of Sloyd, Sloyd, and 
 Gurney. Harry Tristram came out whistling. He 
 looked very pleased ; his step was alert ; he had found 
 something to do, he had made a beginning — good or 
 bad. It looked good : that was enough. He was no 
 
 [217]
 
 Tristram ^Blent 
 
 longer an idler or merely an onlooker. He had begun 
 to take a hand in the game himself. He found an 
 added, perhaps a boyish, pleasure in the fact that the 
 affair was for the present to be a dead secret. He was 
 against Iver too in a certain sense, and that was an- 
 other spice ; not from any ill-will, but because it would 
 please him especially to show Iver that he could hold 
 his own. It occurred to him that in case of a success 
 he -would enjoy going and telling old Lady Evenswood 
 about it. He felt, as he said to himself, very jolly, care- 
 less and jolly, more so than he remembered feeling for 
 many months back. Suddenly an idea struck him. 
 Was it in whole or in part because there was no longer 
 anything to hide, because he need no longer be on the 
 watch ? He gave this idea a good deal of rather amused 
 consideration, and came to the conclusion that there 
 might be something in it. He went to the theatre that 
 night, to the pit (where he would not be known), and 
 enjoyed himself immensely. 
 
 And Lady Evenswood had made up her mind that 
 she would find a way of seeing Mr Disney soon, and 
 throw out a cautious feeler. Everything would have 
 to be done very carefully, especially if the marriage with 
 the cousin were to be made a feature of the case. But 
 her resolve, although not altered, was hampered by a 
 curious feeling to which her talk with Harry had given 
 rise. There was now not only the very grave question 
 whether Robert Disney — to say nothing of Somebody 
 Else — would entertain the idea. There was another, 
 a much less obvious one — whether Harry himself would 
 welcome it. And a third — whether she herself would 
 welcome it for him. However, when Southend next 
 called on her, she professed her readiness to attack or 
 at least to reconnoitre the task from which he and John 
 Fullcombe and the rest had shrunk. 
 
 " Only," she said, " if I were you, I should find out 
 
 [-218]
 
 The New Life 
 
 tolerably early — as soon as we know that there's any 
 chance at all — what Mr .Tristram himself thinks about 
 
 it." 
 
 " There's only one thing he could think ! " exclaimed 
 
 Southend. 
 
 " Oh, very well," smiled Lady Evenswood. 
 
 A long life had taught her that only facts convince, 
 and that they often fail. 
 
 [219]
 
 XVII 
 
 River Scenes and Bric-a-Brac 
 
 THE BLENT was on fire indeed, and Mina Za- 
 briska occupied a position rich in importance, 
 prolific of pleasure. Others, such as Iver and 
 Miss S., might meet Mr Gainsborough as he took 
 timid rambles ; they could extort little beyond a dazed 
 civility. Others again, such as Janie Iver and Bob 
 Broadley, might comfort themselves with the posses- 
 sion of a secret and the conviction that they too could 
 produce a fair sensation when the appropriate (and 
 respectable) time arrived ; for the present they com- 
 manded no public interest. Others again, the Major 
 notably, strove after importance by airs of previous 
 knowledge and hints of undisclosed details. Even Mrs 
 Trumbler made her cast, declaring that she had always 
 known (the source of the information was left in ob- 
 scurity) that pride such as Harry Tristram's was the 
 sure precursor of a fall. None of them could compete 
 with Mina Zabriska. To her alone the doors of Blent 
 were open ; she held exclusive right of access to its hid- 
 den mistress. The fact caused unmeasured indigna- 
 tion, the reason excited unresting curiosity. This state 
 of things ought to have made Mina very happy. What 
 more could woman want? 
 
 One thing only, but that a necessity — somebody to 
 talk to about it. She had nobody. Janie showed no 
 desire to discuss Blent or anything or anybody con- 
 nected therewith, and with Janie out of the question 
 there was nobody to whom loyalty allowed her to talk. 
 The Major, for instance, was one of the enemy. She 
 
 [220]
 
 River Scenes and Bric-a-Brac 
 
 might pity him as an uncle — he was perplexed and 
 surly, because somehow he never happened to meet 
 Miss Iver now — but she could not confide in him. The 
 gossips of Blentmouth were beneath her lordly notice. 
 She was bubbling over with undiscussed impressions. 
 And now even Mr Neeld had gone off on a visit to 
 town ! 
 
 Yet things needed talking about, hammering out, 
 the light of another mind thrown upon them ; for they 
 were very difficult. There was no need to take account 
 of Mr Gainsborough ; as long as he could be kept in 
 the library and out of the one curiosity-shop which was 
 to be found in Blentmouth, he could not do himself or 
 the house much harm. He was still bewildered, but 
 by no means unhappy, and he talked constantly of go- 
 ing back to town to see about everything — to-morrow. 
 There was nothing to see about — the lawyers had done 
 it all — and he was no more necessary or important in 
 London than he was at Blent. But Cecily's case was 
 another matter altogether, and it was about her that 
 Mina desired the enlightening contact of mind with 
 mind, in order to canvass and explain the incongruities 
 of a l:)ehavior which conformed to no rational or con- 
 sistent theory. 
 
 Cecily had acquiesced in all the lawyers did, had 
 signed papers at request, had allowed herself to be in- 
 vested with the property, saluted with the title, en- 
 throned in the fullest manner. So far then she had 
 accepted her cousin's sacrifice and the transformation 
 of her own life. Yet through and in spite of all this 
 she maintained, even to the extreme of punctiliousness, 
 the air of being a visitor at Blent. She was not exactly 
 apologetic to the servants, but she thanked them pro- 
 fusely for any special personal service they might per- 
 form for her ; she made no changes in the order of the 
 household; when Mina — always busy in her friend's 
 
 [221]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 interest — suggested re-arrangement of furniture or of 
 curios, Cecily's manner implied that she was prepared 
 to take no such liberties in another man's house. It 
 would have been all very well-bred if Harry had put 
 his house at her disposal for a fortnight. Seeing that 
 the place was her own and that she had accepted it as 
 being her own, Mina declared that her conduct was 
 little less than an absurdity. This assertion was Hmited 
 to Mina's own mind ; it had not been made to the of- 
 fender herself. The fear she had felt of Harry threat- 
 ened to spread to his successor ; she did not feel equal 
 to a remonstrance. But she grew gradually into a 
 state of extreme irritation and impatience. This pro- 
 visional, this ostentatiously provisional, attitude could 
 not be maintained permanently. Something must hap- 
 pen one way or the other. Now what was it to be? 
 She could not pretend to guess. These Tristrams were 
 odd folk. There was the same blood in Cecily as had 
 run in Addie Tristram's veins. On the other hand the 
 Gainsboroughs seemed to have been ordinary. Was 
 this period of indecision or of suspended action a time 
 of struggle between the Tristram in Cecily and the 
 Gainsborough? Mina, on the look-out for entertain- 
 ment, had no doubt which of the two she wished to be 
 victorious ; the Gainsborough promised nothing, the 
 Tristram — well — effects ! The strain made Mina ex- 
 cited, restless, and at times exceedingly short with 
 Major Duplay. 
 
 The neighborhood waited too, but for the end of 
 Lady Tristram's mourning, not of her indecision. As a 
 result of much discussion, based on many rumors and 
 an incredible number of authentic reports, it was set- 
 tled that at the end of six months Blent was to be 
 thrown open, visitors received, and a big house-warm- 
 ing given. A new era was to begin. Splendor and 
 respectability were to lie down together. Blent was 
 
 [222]
 
 River Scenes and Bric-a-Brac 
 
 to pay a new homage to the proprieties. Miss Swin- 
 kerton was strongly of opinion that bygones should be 
 allowed to be bygones, and was author of a theory 
 which found much acceptance among the villas — 
 namely, that Lady Tristram would consider any refer- 
 ence to her immediate predecessor as inconsiderate, 
 indeed indelicate, and not such as might be expected 
 to proceed from lady-like mouths. 
 
 " We must remember that she's a girl, my dear," 
 Miss S. observed to Mrs Trumbler. 
 
 " She must know about it," Mrs Trumbler suggest- 
 ed. " But I dare say you're right. Miss Swinkerton." 
 
 " If such a thing had happened in my family, I should 
 consider myself personally affronted by any reference 
 to the persons concerned." 
 
 " The Vicar says he's sadly afraid that the notions 
 of the upper classes on such subjects are very lax." 
 
 " Not at all," said Miss S. tartly. Really she needed 
 no instruction from the Vicar. " And as I say, my 
 dear, she's a girl. The ball will mark a new departure. 
 I said so to Madame Zabriska and she quite agreed with 
 me." 
 
 Mrs Trumbler frowned pensively. " I suppose Ma- 
 dame Zabriska has been a widow some time?" she 
 remarked. 
 
 " I have never inquired," said Miss S. with an air 
 of expecting applause for a rare discretion. 
 
 " I wonder what Mr Ilarry will do ! The Vicar says 
 he must be terribly upset." 
 
 " Oh, I never professed to understand that young 
 man. All I know is that he's going abroad." 
 
 "Abroad?" 
 
 " Yes, my dear. I heard it in the town, and Madame 
 Zabriska said she had no doubt it was correct." 
 
 " But surely Madame Zabriska doesn't corre- 
 spond ?" 
 
 [223]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " I don't know, my dear. I know what she said." 
 She looked at Mrs Trumbler and went on with empha- 
 sis : "It doesn't do to judge foreigners as we should 
 judge ourselves. If I corresponded with Mr Tristram 
 it would be one thing ; if Madame Zabriska — and to be 
 sure she has nobody to look after her ; that Major is 
 no better than any silly young man — chooses to do so, 
 it's quite another. All I say is that, so far as Blent is 
 concerned, there's an end of Mr Tristram. Why, he 
 hasn't got a penny piece, my dear." 
 
 " So I heard," agreed Mrs Trumbler. " I suppose 
 they won't let him starve." 
 
 " Oh, arrangements are made in such cases," nodded 
 Miss S. " But of course nothing is said about them. 
 For my part I shall never mention either Mr Tristram 
 or the late Lady Tristram to her present ladyship." 
 
 Mrs Trumbler was silent for a while ; at last her 
 mouth spoke the thoughts of her heart. 
 
 " I suppose she'll be thinking of marrying soon. But 
 I don't know anybody in the neighborhood " 
 
 " My dear, she'll have her house in town in the sea- 
 son. The only reason the late Lady Tristram didn't 
 
 do so was Well, you can see that for yourself, 
 
 Mrs Trumbler ! " 
 
 " What must the Ivers think about it ! What an 
 escape ! How providential ! " 
 
 " Let us hope if'll be a lesson to Janie. If I had 
 allowed myself to think of position or wealth, I should 
 have been married half a dozen times, Mrs Trum- 
 bler." 
 
 " I dare say you would," said faithful Mrs Trumbler. 
 But this assent did not prevent her from remarking to 
 the Vicar that Miss S. sometimes talked of things which 
 no unmarried woman could be expected really to un- 
 derstand. 
 
 It will be observed that the Imp had been alleviating 
 
 [224]
 
 River Scenes and B r i c- a-B r a c 
 
 tlie pangs of her own perplexity by a dexterous minis- 
 tering to the dekisions of others. Not for the world 
 would she have contradicted Miss S.'s assertions ; she 
 would as soon have thought of giving that lady a plain 
 and unvarnished account of the late Monsieur Za- 
 briska's very ordinary and quite reputable life and 
 death. No' doubt she was right. Both she and the 
 neighborhood had to wait, and her efforts did some- 
 thing to make the period more bearable for both of 
 them. The only sufferer was poor Mr Gainsborough, 
 who w^as driven from Blentmouth and the curiosity 
 shop by the sheer terror of encountering ladies from 
 villas who told him all about what his daughter was 
 going to do. 
 
 The outbreak came, and in a fashion as Tristram- 
 esque as Mina could desire, for all that the harbinger 
 of it was frightened little Mr Gainsborough, more 
 frightened still. He came up the hill ont evening about 
 six, praying Mina's immediate presence at Blent. 
 Something had happened, he explained, as they walked 
 down. Cecily had had a letter — from somebody in 
 London. No, not Harry. She must see ]\lina at once. 
 That was all he knew, except that his daughter was 
 perturbed and excited. His manner protested against 
 the whole thing with a mild despair. 
 
 " Quick, quick ! " cried the Imp, almost making him 
 run to keep up with her impatient strides. 
 
 Cecily was in her room — the room that had been 
 Addie Tristram's. 
 
 " You've moved in here ! " was Mina's first exclama- 
 tion. 
 
 " Yes ; the housekeeper said I must, so I did. 
 
 But " She glanced up for a moment at Addie's 
 
 picture and broke off. Then she held up a letter which 
 she had in her hand. " l)o you know anything of Lord 
 Southend? " she asked. 
 
 [225]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " I've heard Mr Iver and Mr Neeld speak of him. 
 That's all." 
 
 " He writes to say he knew Lady Tristram and — and 
 Harry, and hopes he'll know me soon." 
 
 " That's very friendly." Mina thought, but did not 
 add, that it was rather unimportant. 
 
 " Yes, but it's more than that. Don't you see? It's 
 an opening." She looked at her friend, impatient at 
 her want of comprehension. " It makes it possible to 
 do something. I can begin now." 
 
 " Begin what ? " Mina was enjoying her own be- 
 wilderment keenly. 
 
 " How long did you think I could stand it? I'm not 
 made of — of — of soap ! You know Harry ! You liked 
 him, didn't you ? And you knew Lady Tristram ! I've 
 slept in this room two nights and " 
 
 " You haven't seen a ghost?" 
 
 " Ghost ! Oh, don't be silly. I've lain here awake, 
 looking at that picture. And it's looked at me — at 
 least it seemed to. ' What are you doing here ? ' That's 
 what it's been saying. ' What are you doing here ? ' 
 No, I'm not mad. That's what I was saying myself. 
 But the picture seemed to say it." 
 
 There was a most satisfactory absence of Gainsbor- 
 ough about all this. 
 
 " Then I go into the Long Gallery ! It's no better 
 there ! " Her hands were flung out despairingly. 
 
 " You seemed to have settled down so well," mur- 
 mured Mina. 
 
 " Settled down! What was there to do? Oh, you 
 know I hadn't ! I can't bear it, Mina, and I won't. 
 Isn't it hard? I should have loved it all so, if it had 
 been really mine, if it had come to me properly. And 
 now — it's worse than nothing ! " She sat back in 
 her chair with her face set in a desperate unhappi- 
 ness. 
 
 [226]
 
 River Scenes and Bric-a-Brac 
 
 " It is yours; it did come to you properly,'' JNIiiia 
 protested. Her sympathy tended always toward the 
 person she was with, her sensitive mind responding to 
 the immediate appeal. She thought more of Cecily 
 now than of Harry, who was somewhere — vaguely 
 somewhere — in London. 
 
 "You say that?" cried Cecily angrily. "You, 
 Harry's friend ! You, who fought and lied — yes, lied 
 for him. Why did you do all that if you think it's prop- 
 erly mine ? How can I face that picture and say it's 
 mine? It's a detestable injustice. Ah, and I did — I 
 did love it so." 
 
 " Well, I don't see what you're to do. You can't 
 give it back to Mr. Tristram. At least I shouldn't like 
 to propose that to him, and I'm sure he wouldn't take 
 it. Why, he couldn't, Cecily ! " 
 
 Cecily rose and walked restlessly to the window. 
 
 " No, no, no," she said fretfully. vShe turned abruptly 
 round to JNIina. " Lord Southend says he'd be glad to 
 make my acquaintance and have a talk." 
 
 " Ask him down here then." 
 
 " Ask him here ? I'm not going to ask people to stay 
 here." 
 
 " I think that's rather absurd." Mina had needed to 
 summon up courage for this remark. 
 
 " And he says There, look at this letter. He 
 
 says he's seen Harry and hopes to be able to do some- 
 thing for him. What does he mean by that?" She 
 came back toward Mina. " There must be something 
 possible if he says that." 
 
 " He can't mean anything about — about Blent. He 
 means " 
 
 " I must find out what he means. I must see him. 
 The letter came when I was just desperate. Father 
 and I sitting down here together day after day! As 
 
 if ! As if !" She paused and struggled for 
 
 [227]
 
 Tristram /?/ Blent 
 
 self-control. " There, I'm going to be quite calm and 
 reasonable about it," she ended. 
 
 Mina had her doubts about that — and would have 
 been sorry not to have them. The interest that had 
 threatened to vanish from her Hfe with Addie Tristram's 
 death and Harry's departure was revived. She sat 
 looking at the agitated girl in a pleasant suspense. 
 Cecily took up Southend's letter again and smoothed 
 it thoughtfully. " What should you think Harry must 
 feel about me ? " she asked, with a nearer approach to 
 the calm which she had promised ; but it seemed the 
 quiet of despair. 
 
 Here Mina had her theory ready and advanced it with 
 confidence. 
 
 " I expect he hates you. You see he did what he did 
 in a moment of excitement : he must have been 
 wrought up by something — something quite unusual 
 with him. You brought it about somehow." 
 
 " Yes, I know I did. Do you suppose I haven't 
 thought about that ? " 
 
 " There's sure to have been a reaction," pursued the 
 sage Imp. " He'll have got back to his ordinary state 
 of mind, and in that he loved Blent above everything. 
 And the more he loves Blent, and the sorrier he is 
 for having given it up, the less he'll like you, of 
 course." 
 
 " You think he's sorry? " 
 
 " When I've done anything on an impulse like that, 
 I'm always sorry." Mina spoke from a tolerably large 
 experience of impulses and their results ; a very recent 
 example had been the impulse of temper which made 
 her drop hints to the Major about Harry's right to be 
 Tristram of Blent. 
 
 " Yes, then he would hate me," Cecily concluded. 
 " And how she'd hate me ! " she cried the next instant, 
 pointing at Addie Tristram's picture. 
 
 [228]
 
 River Scenes and Bric-a-Brac 
 
 About that at least there was no doubt in Mina's 
 mind. She nodded emphatically. 
 
 " I've done what she spent her life trying to prevent ! 
 I've made everybody talk about her again ! IMina, I 
 feel as if I'd thrown mud at her, as if I'd reviled her. 
 And she can't know how I would have loved her ! " 
 
 " I remember her when she thought her husband was 
 dead, and that she could be married all right to Captain 
 Fitzliubert, and — and that it would be all right, you 
 know." 
 
 " What did she say ? " Cecily's eyes were on the 
 picture. 
 
 " She cried out — ' Think of the difference it makes — 
 the enormous difference ! ' I didn't know what she 
 meant then, but I remember how she looked and how 
 she spoke." 
 
 " And in the end there is — no difference ! Yes, she'd 
 hate me. And so must Harry." She turned to Mina. 
 " It's terribly unfair, isn't it, terribly ? She'd have liked 
 me, I think, and I'd got to be such good friends with 
 him. I'd come to think he'd ask us down now and 
 then — about once a year perhaps. It would have been 
 something to look forward to all the year. It would 
 have made life quite different, quite good enough, you 
 know. I should have been so content and so happy 
 with that. Oh, it's terribly unfair ! Why do people do 
 things that — that bring about things like this ? " 
 
 " Poor Lady Tristram," sighed Mina, glancing at the 
 beautiful cause of the terrible unfairness. " She was 
 like that, you see," she added. 
 
 " Yes, I know that. But it oughtn't to count against 
 other people so. Yes, it's terribly unfair." 
 
 These criticisms on the order of the world, whether 
 well-founded or not (to Mina they seemed to possess 
 much plausibility), did not advance matters. A silence 
 fell between the two, and Cecily walked again to the 
 
 [229]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 window. The sun was setting on Blent, and it glowed 
 in a soft beauty. 
 
 " To think that I should be here, and have this, and 
 yet be very very unhappy ! " murmured the girl softly. 
 She faced round suddenly. " Mina, I'm going to Lon- 
 don. Now — to-night. There's a train at eight." 
 
 The Imp sat up straight and stared. 
 
 " I shall wire to our house; the maid's there, and 
 she'll have things ready." 
 
 " What are you going to town for? " 
 
 " To see this Lord Southend. You must come with 
 me." 
 
 "I? Oh, I can't possibly. And your father ? " 
 
 " He must stay here. You must come. Run back 
 and pack a bag ; you won't want much. I shall go just 
 as I am." With a gesture she indicated the plain black 
 frock she wore. " Oh, I can't be bothered with pack- 
 ing! What does that matter? I'll call for you in the 
 carriage at seven. We mustn't miss the train." 
 
 Mina gasped. This was Tristram indeed ; the wdld 
 resolve was announced in tones calmer than any that 
 Cecily had achieved during the interview. Mina began 
 to think that all the family must have this way of being 
 peculiar in ordinary things, but quite at home when 
 there was an opportunity of doing anything unusual. 
 
 '' I just feel I must go. If anything's done at all, 
 it'll be done in London, not here." 
 
 " How long do you mean to stay ? " 
 
 " I can't possibly tell. Till something's done. Go 
 now, Mina, or you'll be late." 
 
 *' Oh, I'm not coming. The whole thing's absurd. 
 What can you do? And, anyhow, it's not my busi- 
 ness." 
 
 " Very well. I shall go alone. Only I thought you 
 were interested in Harry and — and I thought you were 
 my friend." She threw herself into a chair; she was 
 
 [230]
 
 River Scenes and Bric-a-Brac 
 
 in Addie Tristram's attitude. " But I suppose I haven't 
 got any friends," she concluded, not in a distressed 
 fashion, but with a pensive submissive Httle smile. 
 
 " You're perfectly adorable," cried j\Iina, running 
 across to her. " And I'll go with you to Jericho, if 
 you like." She caught Cecily's hands in hers and 
 kissed her cheek. 
 
 The scene was transformed in an instant ; that also 
 was the Tristram way. Cecily sprang up laughing 
 gayly, even dancing a step or two, as she wrung Mina's 
 hands. 
 
 "Hurrah! MarcJious! En Arant! " she cried. "Oh, 
 we'll do something, Mina! Don't vou hate sitting 
 still?" 
 
 " Cecily, are you — are you in love with Harry ? " 
 " Oh, I hope not, I hope not," she laughed softly. 
 " Because he must hate me so. And are you, Mina? 
 Oh, I hope not that too ! Come, to London ! To seek 
 our fortunes in London ! Oh, you tiresome old Blent, 
 how glad I am to leave you ! " 
 
 " But your father " 
 
 " We'll do things quite nicely, ]\Iina dear. We won't 
 distress father. We'll leave a note for him. Mina, I'm 
 sure Addie Tristram used just to leave a note whenever 
 she ran away ! We'll sleep in London to-night ! " 
 
 Suddenly Mina understood better why Harry had 
 surrendered Blent, and understood too, as her mind 
 fiew back, why Addie Tristram had made men do what 
 they had done. She was carried away by this sudden 
 flood of enraptured resolution, of a resolve that seemed 
 like an inspiration, of delight in the unreasonable, of 
 gay defiance to the limits of the possible. 
 
 "Oh, yes, you tiresome old Blent!" cried Cecily, 
 shaking her fair hair toward the open window. " How 
 could a girl think she was going to live on river scenes 
 and bric-a-brac ? " She laughed in airy scorn. " You 
 
 [231]
 
 Tristram ^/ Blent 
 
 must grow more amusing if I'm to come back to you ! " 
 she threatened. 
 
 River scenes and bric-a-brac ! Mina was surprised 
 that Blent did not on the instant punish the blasphemy 
 by a revengeful earthquake or an overwhelming flood. 
 Cecily caught her by the arm, a burlesque apprehension 
 screwing her face up into a fantastically ugly mask. 
 
 " It was the Gainsborough in me! " she whispered, 
 " Gainsboroughs can live on curios ! But I can't, 
 Mina, I can't. I'm a Tristram, not a Gainsborough. 
 No more could Harry in the end, no more could 
 Harry ! " 
 
 Mina was panting; she had danced and she had won- 
 dered ; she was on the tip of the excitement with which 
 Cecily had infected her. 
 
 " But what are we going to do? " she cried in a last 
 protest of common-sense. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know, but something— something — 
 something," was the not very common-sense answer 
 she received. 
 
 It was not the moment for common-sense. Mina 
 scorned the thing and flung it from her. She would 
 have none of it — she who stood between beautiful Addie 
 there on the wall and laughing Cecily here in the win- 
 dow, feeling by a strange and welcome illusion that 
 though there were two visible shapes, there was but 
 one heart, ohe spirit in the two. Almost it seemed as 
 though Addie had risen to life again, once more to 
 charm and to defy the world. An inexplicable impulse 
 made her exclaim : 
 
 " Were you like this before you came to Blent? " 
 
 A sudden quiet fell on Cecily. She paused before 
 she answered : 
 
 " No, not till I came to Blent." With a laugh she 
 fell on her knees. " Please forgive me what I said 
 about the river and the bric-a-brac, dear darling 
 Blent ! " 
 
 [232]
 
 XVIII 
 
 Conspirators and a Crux 
 
 LORD SOUTHEND was devoted to his wife— 
 a state of feeling natural often, creditable always. 
 Yet the reason people gave for it — and gave with 
 something like an explicit sanction from him — was not 
 a very exalted one. Susanna made him so exceedingly 
 comfortable. She was born to manage a hotel and 
 cause it to pay fifteen per cent. Being a person — not 
 of social importance, nothing could make her that — 
 but of social rank, she was forced to restrict her genius 
 to a couple of private houses. The result was like the 
 light of the lamps in the heroine's boudoir, a soft brill- 
 iancy : in whose glamour Susanna's plain face and lim- 
 ited intellectual interests were lost to view. She was 
 also a particularly good woman ; but her husband knew 
 better than to talk about that. 
 
 Behold him after the most perfect of lunches, his 
 arm-chair in exactly the right spot, his papers by him, 
 his cigars to his hand (even these Susanna understood), 
 a sense of peace in his heart, and in his head a mild 
 wonder that anybody was discontented with the world. 
 In this condition he intended to spend at least a couple 
 of hours ; after which Susanna would drive him gently 
 once round the Park, take him to the House of Lords, 
 wait twenty minutes, and then land him at the Im- 
 perium. He lit a cigar and took up the Economist; it 
 was not the moment for anything exciting. 
 
 " A lady to see you, my Lord — on important busi- 
 ness." 
 
 Excessive comfort is enervating. After a brief and 
 
 [233]
 
 Tristram <?/^ Blent 
 
 futile resistance he found Mina Zabriska in the room, 
 and himself regarding her with mingled consternation 
 and amusement. Relics of excitement hung about the 
 Imp, but they were converted to business purposes. 
 She came as an agent. The name of her principal 
 awoke Southend's immediate interest. 
 
 " She's come up to London ? " he exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes, both of us. We're at their old home." 
 
 Southend discovered his pince-nez and studied her 
 thin mobile little face. 
 
 " And what have you come up for? " he asked after 
 a pause. 
 
 Mina shrugged her shoulders. " Just to see what's 
 going on," she said. " I dare say you wonder what I've 
 got to do with it ? " His manner seemed to assent, and 
 she indicated her position briefly. 
 
 " Oh, that's it, is it ? You knew the late Lady Tris- 
 tram. And you knew " Again he regarded her 
 
 thoughtfully. " I hope Lady Tristram — the new one — 
 is well?" 
 
 There was the sound of a whispered consultation out- 
 side the door ; it drew Mina's eyes in that direction. 
 
 " That's all right," he smiled. " It's only my wife 
 scolding the butler for having let you in. This is my 
 time for rest." 
 
 " Rest ! " exclaimed Mina rather scornfully. " You 
 wrote to Cecily as if you could do something." 
 
 " That was rash of me. What do you want done ? 
 I've heard about you from Iver, you know." 
 
 " Oh, the Ivers have nothing to do with this. It's 
 just between Cecily and Mr. Tristram." 
 
 " And you and me, apparently." 
 
 *' What was your idea when you wrote ? I made 
 Cecily let me come and see you because it sounded as 
 if yon had an idea." If he had no idea, it was clear 
 that contempt awaited hhn.
 
 Conspirators and a Cru^c 
 
 " I wanted to be friendly. But as for doing anything 
 — well, that hardly depends on me." 
 
 " But things can't go on as they are, you know," she 
 said brusquely. 
 
 " Unhappily, as I understand the law " 
 
 " Oh, I understand the law too — and very silly it is. 
 I suppose it can't be changed ? " 
 
 " Good gracious, my dear Madame Zabriska ! 
 Changed ! " And on this point too ! Nolinnits leges 
 Auglice He just stopped himself from the quota- 
 tion. 
 
 " What are Acts of Parliament for?" Mina demanded. 
 
 " Absolutely out of the question," he laughed. 
 '■ Even if everybody consented, absolutely." 
 
 '' And Harry Tristram wouldn't consent, you mean ?" 
 
 " Well, could any man ? " 
 
 Mina looked round the room with a discontented air ; 
 there is such a lamentable gulf between feeling that 
 something must be done and discovering what it is. 
 
 " I don't say positively that nothing can be done," 
 he resumed after a moment, dangling his glass and 
 looking at her covertly. " Are you at leisure this after- 
 noon?" 
 
 " If you've got anything to suggest." Mina had 
 grown distrustful of his inteUigence, and her tone 
 showed it. 
 
 " I thought you might like to come and see a friend 
 of mine, who is kind enough to be interested in Harry 
 Tristram." He added, with the consciousness of nam- 
 ing an important person, " I mean Lady Evenswood." 
 " Who's she? " asked the Imp curtly. 
 To do them justice. Englishmen seldom forget that 
 allowances must be made for foreigners. Lord South- 
 end explained gravely and patiently. 
 
 " Well, let's go," said Mina indifferently. " Not that 
 it seems much use," her manner added. 
 
 [235J
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 " Excuse me a moment,'' said he, and he went out to 
 soothe his wife's alarm and assure her that he was not 
 tired. 
 
 As they drove, Mina heard more of Lady Evenswood 
 — among other things, that she had known Addie Tris- 
 tram as a child ; this fact impressed the Imp beyond all 
 the rest. But Lady Evenswood herself made a greater 
 impression still. An unusual timidity assaulted and 
 conquered Mina when she found herself with the white- 
 haired old lady who never seemed to do more than 
 gently suggest and yet exercised command. Southend 
 watched them together with keen amusement, while 
 Lady Evenswood drew out of Mina some account of 
 Cecily's feelings and of the scene at Blent. 
 
 " Well, that's Tristram all over," sighed Lady Evens- 
 wood at the end. 
 
 " Yes, isn't it ? " cried Mina, emboldened by a sym- 
 pathy that spoke her own thought. " She hates to feel 
 she's taken everything away from him. But Lord 
 Southend says he can't have it back." 
 
 " Oh, no, no, my dear. Still " She glanced 
 
 at Southend, doubtful whether to mention their 
 scheme. 
 
 He shook his head slightly. 
 
 " I dare say Lady Tristram was momentarily ex, 
 cited," he remarked to Mina, " and I think too that she 
 exaggerates what Harry feels. As far as I've seen him, 
 he's by no means miserable." 
 
 " Well, she is anyhow," said Mina. " And you won't 
 convince her that he isn't." She turned to Lady Evens- 
 wood. " Is there nothing to be done? You see it's 
 all being wasted." 
 
 " All being wasted ? " 
 
 " Yes, Blent and all of it. He can't have it ; and as 
 things are now she can't enjoy it." 
 
 " Very perverse, very perverse, certainly," murmured 
 
 [236]
 
 Conspirators and a Crux 
 
 Southend, frowning — although he was rather amused 
 too. 
 
 " With an obvious solution/' said Lady Evenswood, 
 " if only we lived in the realms of romance." 
 
 " I have suggested a magician," put in Southend. 
 " Though he doesn't look much like one," he added 
 with a laugh. 
 
 Mina did not understand his remark, but she caught 
 Lady Evenswood's meaning. 
 
 "Yes," she said, "but Harry wouldn't do that 
 either." 
 
 " He doesn't like his cousin? " 
 
 " Yes, I think so." She smiled as she added, " And 
 even if he didn't that mightn't matter." 
 
 The other two exchanged glances as they listened. 
 Mina. inspired by a subject that never failed to rouse 
 her, gained courage. 
 
 " Any more than it mattered with Miss Iver," she 
 pursued. " And he might just as likely have given 
 Blent to Cecily in that way as in the way he actually 
 did — if she'd wanted it very much and — and it had been 
 a splendid thing for him to do." 
 
 Lady Evenswood nodded gently. Southend raised 
 his brows in a sort of i)rotest against this relentless 
 analysis. 
 
 " Because that sort of thing would have appealed to 
 him. But he'd never take it from her; he wouldn't 
 even if he was in love with her." She addressed Lady 
 Evenswood especially. " You understand that? " she 
 asked. " He wouldn't be indebted to her. He'd hate 
 her for that." 
 
 " Not very amiable," conunented Southend. 
 
 "Amiable? No!" Amiability seemed at a dis- 
 count with the Imp. 
 
 " You know him very well, my dear? " 
 
 " Yes, I — 1 came to." Mina paused, and suddenly 
 
 L237]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 blushed at the remembrance of an idea that had once 
 been suggested to her by Major Duplay. " And Fm 
 very fond of her," she added. 
 
 " In the deadlock," said Southend, " I think you'll 
 have to try my prescription, Lady Evenswood." 
 
 " You think that would be of use ? " 
 
 " It would pacify this pride of Master Harry's per- 
 haps." 
 
 Mina looked from one to the other. 
 
 " Do you mean there's anything possible ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " My dear, you're a very good friend." 
 
 " I'm not very happy. I don't know what in the 
 
 world Cecily will do. And yet " Mina struggled 
 
 with her rival impulses of kindness and curiosity. " It's 
 all aw^fully interesting," she concluded, breaking into a 
 smile she could not resist. 
 
 " That's the only excuse for all of us, I suppose," 
 sighed Lady Evenswood. 
 
 " Not that I like the boy particularly," added South- 
 end. 
 
 " Is there anything? " asked Mina. The appeal was 
 to the lady, not to Southend. But he answered chalif- 
 ingly : 
 
 " Possibly — just possibly — the resources of the Con- 
 stitution " 
 
 The bell of the front door sounded audibly in the 
 morning-room in which they were. 
 
 " I dare say that's Robert," remarked Lady Evens- 
 wood. " He said he might call." 
 
 " Oh, by Jove ! " exclaimed Southend with a laugh 
 that sounded a trifle uneasy. 
 
 The door opened, and a man came in unannounced. 
 He was of middle height, with large features, thick 
 coarse hair, and a rather ragged beard ; his arms were 
 long and his hands large. 
 
 [238]
 
 Conspirators and a Crux 
 
 " How are you, Cousin Sylvia ? " he said, crossing to 
 Lady Evenswood, who gave him her hand without 
 rising. " How are you, Southend ? " He turned back 
 to Lady Evenswood. " I thought you were alone." 
 
 He spoke in brusque tones, and he looked at Mina as 
 if he did not know what she might be doing there. His 
 appearance seemed vaguely familiar to her. 
 
 " We are holding a little conference, Robert. This 
 young lady is very interested in Harry Tristram and 
 his affair. Come now, you remember about it ! Madame 
 Zabriska, this is Mr Disney." 
 
 "Mr Disney!" The Imp gasped. "You 
 mean .'' 
 
 The other two smiled. Mr Disney scowled a little. 
 Obviously he had hoped to find his relative alone. 
 
 " Madame Zabriska met Addie Tristram years ago 
 at Heidelberg, Robert ; and she's been staying down 
 at Blent — at Merrion Lodge, didn't you say, my 
 dear?" 
 
 Mr Disney had sat down. 
 
 " Well, what's the young fellow like ? " he asked. 
 
 " Oh, 1 — I — don't know," murmured the Imp in for- 
 lorn shyness. This man was — was actually — the — the 
 Prime Minister! Matters would have been rather bet- 
 ter if he had consented to look just a little like it. As 
 it was, her head was in a whirl. Lady Evenswood 
 called him " Robert " too ! Nothing about Lady 
 Evenswood had impressed her as much as that, not 
 even the early acquaintance with Addie Tristram. 
 
 " Well then, what's the girl like ? " asked Disney. 
 
 " Robert, don't frighten Madame Zabriska." 
 
 " Frighten her? What do you mean? " 
 
 " Oh, tell him what I mean, George," laughed Lady 
 Evenswood, turning to Southend. Mr Disney seemed 
 genuinely resentful at the idea that he might frighten 
 anybody. 
 
 [239]
 
 Tristram ^Blent 
 
 " Are you a member of the conference too, South- 
 end ? " 
 
 " Well, yes, I — I'm interested in the family. He tele- 
 graphed a glance of caution to the old lady; he meant 
 to convey that the present was not a happy moment to 
 broach the matter that was in their minds. 
 
 " I'm sorry I interrupted. Can you give me five 
 minutes in another room, Cousin Sylvia?" He rose 
 and waited for her. 
 
 " Oh, but can't you do anything? " blurted out the 
 Imp suddenly. 
 
 " Eh ? " His eyes under their heavy brows were 
 fixed on her now. There was a deep-lying twinkle in 
 them, although he still frowned ferociously. " Do 
 what ? " 
 
 " Why, something for — for Harry Tristram ? " 
 
 He looked round at each of them. The twinkle was 
 gone ; the frown was not. 
 
 " Oh, was that the conference ? " he asked slowly. 
 " Well, what has the conference decided ? " It was 
 Mina whom he questioned, for which Southend at least 
 was profoundly thankful. " He'd have bitten my head 
 off, if the women hadn't been there," he confided to 
 Iver afterward. 
 
 Mr Disney slowly sat down again. Mina did not 
 perceive the significance of this action, but Lady Evens- 
 wood did. 
 
 " It's such an extraordinary case, Robert. So very 
 exceptional ! Poor Addie Tristram ! You remember 
 her?" 
 
 " Yes, I remember Addie Tristram," he muttered — 
 " growled," Mina described it afterward. " Well, what 
 do you want? " he asked. 
 
 Lady Evenswood was a woman of tact. 
 
 " Really," she said, " it can't be done in this way, 
 of course. If anything is to come before you, it 
 
 [240]
 
 Conspirators and a Crux 
 
 must come before vou regularly. I know that, 
 Robert." 
 
 The Imp had no tact. 
 
 " Oh, no," she cried. " Do listen now, Mr Disney. 
 Do promise to help us now ! " 
 
 Tact is not always the best thing in the world. 
 
 " If you'll tell me in two words, I'll Hsten," said Mr 
 Disney. 
 
 "I — I can't do that. In two words? Oh, but 
 please " 
 
 He had turned away from her to Southend. 
 
 " Now then, Southend? " 
 
 Lord Southend felt that he must be courageous. 
 After all the women were there. 
 
 " In two words ? Literally ? " 
 
 Disney nodded, smiling grimly at Mina's clasped 
 hands and imploring face. 
 
 " Literally — if you can." There was a gratuitous 
 implication that Southend and the rest of the world 
 were apt to be loquacious. 
 
 " Well, then,'' said Southend, " I will. What we 
 
 want is " After one glance at Lady Evenswood, 
 
 he got it out. " What we want is — a viscounty." 
 
 For a moment Mr Disney sat still. Then again he 
 rose slowly. 
 
 " Have I tumbled into Bedlam ? " he asked. 
 
 " It was done in the Bearsdale case," suggested Lady 
 Evenswood. " Of course there was a doubt there " 
 
 " Anyhow a barony — but a viscounty would be more 
 convenient," murmured Southend. 
 
 Mina was puzzled. These mysteries were beyond 
 her. She had never heard of the IJearsdale case, and 
 she did not understand why — in certain circumstances 
 — a viscounty would be more convenient. But she 
 knew that something was l)eing urged which might 
 meet the difficulty, and she kept eager eyes on Mr Dis- 
 
 [241J
 
 Tristram oJ^ Blent 
 
 ney. Perhaps she would have done that anyhow ; men 
 who rule heads and hearts can surely draw eyes also. 
 Yet at the moment he was not inspiring. He listened 
 with a smile (was it not rather a grin?) of sardonic 
 ridicule. 
 
 " You made me speak, you know," said Southend. 
 " I'd rather have waited till we got the thing into 
 shape." 
 
 " And I should like you to see the boy, Robert." 
 " Bedlam ! " said Mr Disney with savage conviction. 
 " I'll talk to you about what I came to say another day, 
 
 Cousin Sylvia. Really to-day ! " With a vague 
 
 awkward wave of his arm he started for the door. 
 " You will try ? " cried the Imp, darting at him. 
 She heard him say, half under his breath, " Damned 
 persistent little woman ! " before he vanished through 
 the door. She turned to her companions, her face 
 aghast, her lips quivering, her eyes dim. The magician 
 had come and gone and worked no spell; her disap- 
 pointment was very bitter. 
 
 To her amazement Seuthend was radiant and Lady 
 Evenswood wore an air of gratified contentment. She 
 stared at them. 
 
 " It went off better than I expected," said he. 
 
 " It must be one of Robert's good days," said she. 
 
 " But — but " gasped the Imp. 
 
 " He was very civil for him. He must mean to 
 think about it, about something of the sort anyhow," 
 Southend explained. " I shouldn't wonder if it had 
 been in his mind," he added to Lady Evenswood. 
 
 " Neither should I. At any rate he took it splen- 
 didly. I almost wish we'd spoken of the marriage," 
 " Couldn't you write to him ? " 
 " He wouldn't read it, George." 
 " Telegraph then ! " 
 
 " It would really be worth trying — considering how 
 
 [242]
 
 Conspirators and a Crux 
 
 he took it." Lady Evenswood did not seem able to 
 get over the Prime Minister's extraordinary affability. 
 
 " Well, if he treats you like that — great people like 
 you — and you're pleased, thank goodness I never met 
 him alone ! " Mina was not shy with them any more ; 
 she had suffered worse. 
 
 They glanced at one another. 
 
 " It was you, my dear. He'd have been more diffi- 
 cult with us," said Lady Evenswood. 
 
 " You interested him," Southend assured her. 
 
 " Yes, if anything's been done, you've done it." 
 
 They seemed quite sincere. That feeling of being 
 on her head instead of her heels came over Mina again. 
 
 " I shouldn't be a bit surprised if he sent for Harry." 
 
 " No, nor if he arranged to meet Cecily Gainsbor- 
 ough — Cecily Tristram, I mean." 
 
 " I thought he looked — well, as if he was hit — when 
 you mentioned Addie." 
 
 " Oh, there's really no telling with Robert. It went 
 off very well indeed. What a lucky thing he came ! " 
 
 Still bewildered, Mina began, all the same, to assimi- 
 late this atmosphere of contentment and congratula- 
 tion. 
 
 " Do you really think I — I had anything to do with 
 it? " she asked, a new pride swelling in her heart. 
 
 " Yes, yes, you attracted his attention." 
 
 " He was amused at you, my dear." 
 
 " Then I'm glad." She meant that her sufferings 
 would perhaps not go unrecompensed. 
 
 " You must bring Lady Tristram to see me," said 
 Lady Evenswood. 
 
 "Cecily? Oh— well, I'll try." 
 
 Lady Evenswood smiled and Southend laughed out- 
 right. It was not quite the way in which Lady Evens- 
 wood's invitations were generally received. But neither 
 of them liked Mina less. 
 
 [243]
 
 Tristram <?/^ Blent 
 
 It was something to go back to the tiny house be- 
 tween the King's and Fulham Road with the record 
 of such adventures as these. Cecily was there, languid 
 and weary ; she had spent the whole day in that ham- 
 mock in the strip of garden in which Sloyd had found 
 her once. Despondency had succeeded to her excite- 
 ment — this was all quite in the Tristram way — and she 
 had expected no fruit from Mina's expedition. But 
 Mina came home, not indeed with anything very defi- 
 nite, yet laden with a whole pack of possibilities. She 
 put that point about the viscounty, which puzzled her, 
 first of all. It alone was enough to fire Cecily to anima- 
 tion. Then she led up, through Lady Evenswood, to 
 Mr Disney himself, confessing however that she took 
 the encouragement which that great man had given 
 on faith from those who knew him better than she did. 
 Her own impression would have been that he meant to 
 dismiss the whole thing as impossible nonsense. 
 
 " Still I can't help thinking we've done something," 
 she ended in triumph. 
 
 " Mina, are you working for him or for me? " 
 
 This question faced Mina with a latent problem which 
 she had hitherto avoided. And now she could not solve 
 it. For some time back she had been familiarized with 
 the fact that her life was dull when Harry Tristram 
 passed out of it. The accepted explanation of that state 
 of feeling was simple enough. But then it would in- 
 volve Cecily in her turn-passing out of view, or at least 
 becoming entirely insignificant. And Mina was not 
 prepared for that. She tried hard to read the answer, 
 regarding Cecily earnestly the while. 
 
 " Mayn't I work for both of you ? " she asked at last. 
 
 " Well, I can't see why you should do that," said 
 Cecily, rolling out of the hammock and fretfully 
 smoothing her hair. 
 
 " I'm a busy-body. That's it," said Mina. 
 
 [244]
 
 Conspirators and a Crux 
 
 " You know what'll happen if he finds it out ? Harry, 
 I mean. He'll be furious with both of us." 
 
 Mina reflected. " Yes, I suppose he will," she ad- 
 mitted. But the spirit of self-sacrifice was on her, per- 
 haps also that of adventure. " I don't care," she said, 
 " as long as I can help." 
 
 There was a loud knock at the door. Mina rushed 
 into the front room and saw a man in uniform delivering 
 a letter. The next moment the maid brought it to her — 
 a long envelope with " First Lord of the Treasury " 
 stamped on the lower left-hand corner. She noticed 
 that it was addressed to Lady Evenswood's house, and 
 must have been sent on post haste. She tore it open. 
 It was headed " Private and Confidential." 
 
 " Madame — I am directed by Mr Disney to request you 
 to state in writing, for his consideration, any facts which may 
 be within your knowledge as to the circumstances attendant 
 on the marriage of the late Lady Tristram of Blent, and the 
 birth of her son Mr Henry Austen Fitzhubert Tristram. I 
 am to add that your communication will be considered con- 
 fidential. — I am, Madame, Yours faithfully, 
 
 Broadstairs. 
 
 " Madame Zabriska." 
 
 "Cecily, Cecily, Cecily!" Mina darted back and 
 thrust this wonderful document into Cecily's hands. 
 " He does mean something, you see, he will do some- 
 thing 1 " she cried. " Oh, who's Broadstairs, I wonder." 
 
 Cecily took the letter and read. The Imp reappeared 
 with a red volume in her hand. 
 
 " Viscount Broadstairs — eldest son of the Earl of 
 Ramsgate ! "' she read with wide-open eyes. " And he 
 says he's directed to write, doesn't he ? Well, you are 
 funny in England ! But I don't wonder I was afraid of 
 Mr Disney." 
 
 " Oh, Mr Disney's secretary, I suppose. But, 
 Mina " Cecily was alive again now, but her awak- 
 
 [245]^
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 ening did not seem to be a pleasant one. She turned 
 suddenly from her friend and, walking as far of? as the 
 little room would let her, flung herself into a chair. 
 
 " What's the matter? " asked Mina, checked in her 
 excited gayety. 
 
 " What will Harry care about anything they can give 
 him without Blent ? " 
 
 Mina flushed. The conspiracy was put before her — 
 not by one of the conspirators but by her who was the 
 object of it. She remembered Lady Evenswood's ques- 
 tion and Southend's. She had answered that it might 
 not much matter whether Harry liked his cousin or not. 
 He had not loved Janie Iver. Where was the differ- 
 ence? 
 
 " He won't want anything if he can't have Blent. 
 Mina, did they say anything about me to Mr Disney? " 
 
 " No," cried Mina eagerly. 
 
 '* But they will, they mean to ? " Cecily was leaning 
 forward eagerly now. 
 
 Mina had no denial ready. She seemed rather to 
 hang on Cecily's words than to feel any need of speak- 
 ing herself. She was trying to follow Cecily's thoughts 
 and to trace the cause of the apprehension, the terror 
 almost, that had come on the girl's face. 
 
 " He'll see it — just as I see it ! " Cecily went on, 
 " And, Mina " 
 
 She paused again. Still Mina had no words, and no 
 comfort for her. This sight of the other side of the 
 question was too sudden. It was Harry then, and 
 Harry only, who had really been in her thoughts ; and 
 Cecily, her friend, was to be used as a tool. There 
 might be little ground for blaming Southend who had 
 never seen her, or Lady Evenswood who had been 
 brought in purely in Harry's interest. But how stood 
 Mina, who was Cecily's friend ? Yet at last a thought 
 flashed into her mind and gave her a weapon. 
 
 [246J
 
 Conspirators and a Crux 
 
 " Well, what did you come to London for ? " she cried 
 defiantly. " Why did you come, unless you meant that 
 
 too?" 
 
 Cecily started a little and lay back m her chair. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," she murmured despondently. 
 " He hates me, but if he's offered Blent and me he'll — 
 he'll take us both, Mina, you know he will.''^ An iri- 
 dignant rush of color came on her cheeks. " Oh, it's 
 very easy for you ! " 
 
 In a difficulty of that sort it did not seem that even 
 Mr Disnev could be of much avail. 
 
 " Oh, you Tristrams ! " cried Mina in despair. 
 
 [247]
 
 XIX 
 
 In the Matter of Blinkhampton 
 
 PITY for the commander who, while engaging the 
 enemy on his front with valor and success, break- 
 ing his line and driving him from his position, 
 finds himself assailed in the rear by an unexpected or 
 despised foe and the prize of victory suddenly wrenched 
 from him ! His fate is more bitter than if he had failed 
 in his main encounter, his self-reproaches more keen. 
 
 Major Duplay was awakening to the fact that this 
 was his situation. Triumph was not his although Harry 
 Tristram had fled from the battle. Iver's carefully 
 guarded friendliness and the touch of motherly com- 
 passion in his wife's manner, Mrs Trumbler's tacit re- 
 quest (conveyed by a meek and Christian sympathy) 
 that he should bow to the will of Providence, Miss S.'s 
 malicious questions as to where he meant to spend the 
 winter after leaving Merrion, told him the opinion of 
 the world. Janie Iver had begun to think flirtation 
 wrong ; and there was an altogether new and remark- 
 able self-assertion about Bob Broadley. The last thing 
 annoyed Duplay most. It is indeed absurd that a 
 young man, formerly of a commendable humility, 
 should think a change of demeanor justified merely 
 because one young woman, herself insignificant, 
 chooses for reasons good or bad to favor him. Duplay 
 assumed to despise Bob; it is often better policy to 
 despise people than to enter into competition with 
 them, and it is always rash to do both. These and other 
 truths — as, for example, that for some purposes it is
 
 In the Matter of Blinkhampton 
 
 better not to be forty-four — the Major was learning. 
 Was there any grain of comfort ? It lay in the fact that 
 he was forty-four. A hypothetical, now impossible, yet 
 subtly soothing Major of thirty routed Bob Broadley 
 and carried all before him. In other words Duplay 
 was driven back to the Last Ditch of Consolation. 
 What we could have done is the latest-tried plaster for 
 the wound of what we cannot do ; it would be wise to 
 try it sometimes a little earlier. 
 
 From the orthodox sentimentalist he could claim no 
 compassion. He had lost not his heart's love but a very 
 comfortable settlement ; he was wounded more in his 
 vanity than in his affections ; he had wasted not his life, 
 only one of his few remaining effective summers. But 
 the more lax, who base their views on what men gen- 
 erally are, may spare him one of those less bitter tears 
 which they appropriate to the misfortunes of others. If 
 the tear as it falls meets a smile, — why not ? Such en- 
 counters are hardly unexpected and may well prove 
 agreeable. 
 
 There was another disconsolate person in the valley 
 of the Blent — little Mr Gainsborough, left alone in the 
 big house with a note from his daughter commanding 
 him to stay there and to say nothing to anybody. He 
 was lonely, and nervous with the servants ; the curios 
 gave him small pleasure since he had not bought them, 
 and, if he had, they would not have been cheap. For 
 reasons before indicated, Blentmouth and the curiosity- 
 shop there had become too dangerous. Besides, he had 
 no money ; Cecily had forgotten that detail in her hur- 
 ried flight. A man cannot spend more than a portion 
 of his waking hours in a library or over pedigrees. 
 Gainsborough found himself regretting London and 
 the little house. If we divide humanity into those who 
 do things and those who have to get out of the way 
 while they are being done (just as reasonable a division 
 
 [249J
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 as many adopted by statisticians) Gainsborough be- 
 longed to the latter class ; hke most of us perhaps, but 
 in a particularly unmistakable degree. And he knew he 
 did — not perhaps like most of us in that. He never 
 thought even of appealing to posterity. 
 
 Meanwhile Janie Iver was behaving as a pattern 
 daughter, cherishing her mother and father and makiag 
 home sweet, exercising, in fact, that prudent economy 
 of wilfulness which preserves it for one great decisive 
 struggle, and scorns to fritter it away on the details of 
 daily life. Girls have adopted these tactics from the 
 earliest days (so it is recorded or may be presumed), and 
 wary are the parents who are not hoodwinked by them 
 or, even if they perceive, are altogether unsoftened. 
 Janie was very saintly at Fairholme ; the only sins 
 which she could have found to confess (not that Mr 
 Trumbler favored confession — quite the contrary) were 
 certain suppressions of truth touching the direction in 
 which she drove her dog-cart — and even these were 
 calculated to avoid the giving of pain. As for the 
 Tristrams — where were they? They seemed to have 
 dropped out of Janie's story. 
 
 Iver needed comfort. There is no disguising it, how- 
 ever much the admission may damage him in the eyes of 
 that same orthodox sentimentalist. He had once ex- 
 pounded his views to Mr Jenkinson Neeld (or rather 
 one of his expositions of them has been recorded, there 
 having been more than one) — and the present situa- 
 tion did not satisfy them. Among other rehabilitations 
 and whitewashings, that of the cruel father might well 
 be undertaken by an ingenious writer ; if Nero had had 
 a grown-up daughter there would have been the 
 chance ! Anyhow the attempt would have met with 
 some sympathy from Iver. Of course a man desires 
 his daughter's happiness (the remark is a platitude), 
 but he may be allowed to feel annoyance at the precise 
 
 [250]
 
 In the Matter of Blinkhamptqn 
 
 form in which it reahzes — or thinks it will realize — it- 
 self, a shape that may disappoint the aim of his career. 
 If he is provided with a son, he has the chance of a more 
 unselfish benevolence ; but Iver was not. Let all be 
 said that could be said — Bob Broadley was a disap- 
 pointment. Iver would, if put to it, have preferred 
 Duplav- There was at least a cosmopolitan polish 
 about the Major ; drawing-rooms would not appal him 
 nor the thought of going to Court throw him into a 
 perspiration. Iver had been keen to find out the truth 
 about Harry Tristram, as keen as Major Duplav. At 
 this moment both of them were wishing that the truth 
 had never been discovered by them nor flung in the 
 face of the world by Harry himself. 
 
 " But darling Janie will be happy," Mrs Iver used to 
 say. She had surrendered very easily. 
 
 He was not really an unnatural ])arent because he 
 growled once or twice, " Darling Janie be hanged ! " 
 It was rather his wife's attitude of mind that he meant 
 to condemn. 
 
 Bob himself was hopeless from a parent's point of 
 view. He w-as actually a little touched by Mrs Trum- 
 bler's way of looking at the world ; he did think — and 
 confessed it to Janie — that there was something very 
 remarkable in the way Harry Tristram had been cleared 
 from his path. He was in no sense an advanced thinker, 
 and people in love are apt to believe in what are called 
 interpositions. Further, he was primitive in his ideas; 
 he had won the lady, and that seemed to him enough. 
 It was enough, if he could keep her ; and in these days 
 that really depends on herself. Moreover he had no 
 doubt of keeping her ; his primitiveness appears again ; 
 with the first kiss he seemed to pass from slave to 
 master. Many girls would have taught him better. 
 Janie was not one. She seemed rather to acquiesce, 
 being, it must be presumed, also of a somewhat primi- 
 
 [251]
 
 Tristram of Bl^nt 
 
 tive cast of mind. It was terribly clear to Iver that the 
 pair would stand to one another and settle down in 
 inglorious contentment together for tlieir lives. Yes, 
 it was worse than Duplay ; something might have been 
 made of him. As for Harry — Iver used to end by 
 thinking how sensible a man old Mr Neeld was ; for Mr 
 Neeld had determined to hold his tongue. 
 
 There was another vexation, of a different kind in- 
 deed, but also a check in his success. Blinkhampton 
 was not going quite right. Blinkhampton was a pre- 
 destined seaside resort on the South Coast, and Iver, 
 with certain associates, meant to develop it. They had 
 bought it up, and laid it out for building, and arranged 
 for a big hotel with Birch & Company, the famous fur- 
 nishers. But all along in front of it — between where 
 the street now was and the esplanade was soon to be — 
 ran a long narrow strip, forming the estate of an elderly 
 gentleman named Masters. Of course Masters had to 
 be bought out, the whole scheme hanging on that. 
 Iver, keen at a bargain, hard in business hours (had 
 not Mina Zabriska discovered that?), confident that 
 nobody would care to incur his enmity — he was power- 
 ful — by forestalling him, had refused Masters his price ; 
 the old gentleman would have to come down. But 
 some young men stepped in, with the rashness of their 
 youth, and acquired an option of purchase from Mas- 
 ters. Iver smiled in a vexed fashion, but was not dis- 
 mayed. He let it be known that anybody who advanced 
 money to the young men — Sloyd, Sloyd, and Gurney 
 was the firm — would be his enemies ; then he waited 
 for the young men to approach him. They did not 
 come. At last, pride protesting, prudence insisting, he 
 wrote and suggested that they might probably be glad 
 to make an arrangement with him. Mr Sloyd — our Mr 
 Sloyd — wrote back that they had found a capitalist — 
 no less than that — and proposed to develop their estate 
 
 [252J
 
 In the Matter of Blinkhampton 
 
 themselves, to put up their own hotel, also a row of 
 boarding-houses, a club, a winter garden, and possibly 
 an aquarium. Youth and a sense of elation caused 
 Sloyd to add that they would always be glad to co- 
 operate with other gentlemen interested in Blink- 
 hampton. 
 
 Iver had many irons in the fire ; he could no more 
 devote himself exclusively and personally to Blink- 
 hampton than Napoleon could spend all his time in the 
 Peninsula. The transaction was important, yet hardly 
 vital ; besides Iver himself could keep his ear to the 
 telephone. It was an opportunity for Bob to win his 
 spurs ; Iver proposed to him to go to town and act as 
 his representative. 
 
 " I'm afraid you'll lose the game if I play it for you, 
 Mr Iver," responded Bob, with a shake of his head and 
 a good-humored smile. " I'm not accustomed to that 
 sort of job, you know." 
 
 " It would be a good chance for you to begin to learn 
 something of business." 
 
 " Well, you see, farming's my business. And I don't 
 think I'm a fool at that. But building speculations 
 and so on " Bob shook his head again. 
 
 The progressive man gazed in wonder at the station- 
 ary. (We divide humanity again.) 
 
 " You've no desire for — for a broader sphere?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " W' ell, I like a quiet life, you see — with my horses, 
 and my crops, and so on. Don't believe I could stand 
 the racket." So far as physique was concerned, Bob 
 could have stood penal servitude and a London Season 
 combined. 
 
 " But it's an opening," Ivor persisted, by now actu- 
 ally more puzzled than angry. "If you found yourself 
 at home in the work, it might lead to anything." He 
 resisted the temptation to add, " Look at me ! " Did 
 
 [253]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 not Fairholme, its lawns and green-houses, say as much 
 for him ? 
 
 " But I don't know that I want anything," smiled 
 Bob. " Of course I'll have a shot if it'll oblige you," 
 
 he added. " But Well, I'd rather not risk it, you 
 
 know." 
 
 Janie was there. Iver turned to her in despair. She 
 was smiling at Bob in an approving understanding way. 
 
 " It really isn't what would suit Bob, father," said 
 she. " Besides, if he went into your business, we should 
 have to be so much in town and hardly ever be at home 
 at Mingham." 
 
 At home at Mingham ! What a destiny ! Certainly 
 
 Blent was in the same valley, but Well, a *' seat " 
 
 is one thing, and a farm's another; the world is to 
 blame again, no doubt. And with men who want noth- 
 ing, for whom the word " opening " has no magic, what 
 is to be done ? Abstractly they are seen to be a neces- 
 sary element in the commvmity ; but they do not make 
 good sons or sons-in-law for ambitious men. Janie, 
 when she had seen Bob, an unrepentant cheerful Bob, 
 on his way, came back to find her father sitting 
 sorrowful. 
 
 " Dearest father, I'm so sorry," she said, putting her 
 arms round his neck. 
 
 He squared his shoulders to meet facts ; he could 
 always do that. Moreover he looked ahead — that 
 power was also among his gifts — and saw how pres- 
 ently this thing, like other things, would become a mat- 
 ter of course. 
 
 " That's settled, Janie," said he. " I've made my last 
 suggestion." 
 
 She went off in distress to her mother, but was told 
 to " let him alone." The wisdom of woman and of 
 years spoke. Presently Iver went out to play golf. 
 But his heart was still bitter within him ; he could not 
 
 [254]
 
 In the Matter of Blinkhampton 
 
 resist the sight of a possible sympathizer ; he mentioned 
 to the Major, who was his antagonist in the game, that 
 it was not often that a young fellow refused such a 
 chance as he had just offered in vain to Bob Broadlcy. 
 His prospective relationship to Bob had reached the 
 stage of being assumed between Duplay and him, al- 
 though it had not yet been explicitly mentioned. 
 
 " I wish somebody would try me ! " laughed the 
 Major. '* I'm kicking my heels all day down here." 
 
 Iver made no reply and played the round in silence. 
 He lost, perhaps because he was thinking of something 
 else. He liked Duplay, he thought him clever, and, 
 looking back on the history of the Tristram affair, he 
 felt somehow that he would like to do the Major a good 
 turn. Were they not in a sense companions in mis- 
 fortune? 
 
 Two days later Duplay sat in the offices of Sloyd, 
 Sloyd, and Gurney, as Iver's representative ; his mission 
 was to represent to the youthful firm the exceeding folly 
 of their conduct in regard to Blinkhampton. His ready 
 brain had assimilated all the facts, and they lost nothing 
 by his ready tongue. He even made an impression on 
 the enemy. 
 
 " It doesn't do to look at one transaction only, Mr 
 Sloyd," he reminded the spruce but rather nervous 
 young man. " It'll pay you to treat us reasonably. Mr 
 Iver's a good friend to have and a bad enemy." 
 
 " I'm quite alive to all that ; but we have obtained a 
 
 legitimate advantage and " Sloyd was evidently a 
 
 little puzzled, and he glanced at the clock. 
 
 " We recognize that ; we offer you two thousand 
 pounds. We take over your option and give you two 
 thousand." This was the figure that Iver and he had 
 decided would tempt the young firm ; their fear of the 
 great Mr Iver would make them content with that. 
 
 Sloyd was half inclined to be content ; the firm would 
 
 [255]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 make a thousand ; the balance would be good interest 
 on the capitalist's ten thousand pounds ; and there 
 would still be enough of a victory to soothe the feelings 
 of everybody concerned. 
 
 " I'm expecting the gentleman who is associated with 
 us. If you'll excuse me, I'll step out and see if he's 
 arrived." 
 
 Duplay saw through the suggestion, but he had no 
 objection to permitting a consultation. He lit his cigar 
 and waited while Sloyd was away. The Major was in 
 greater contentment with himself than he had been 
 since he recognized his defeat. Next to succeeding, 
 it is perhaps the pleasantest thing to make people regret 
 that you have not succeeded. If he proved his capacity 
 Iver would regret what had happened more ; possibly 
 even Janie would come to regret it. And he was glad 
 to be using his brains again. If they took the two thou- 
 sand, if Iver got the Masters estate and entire control 
 of Blinkhampton for twenty-two thousand, Duplay 
 would have had a hand in a good bargain. He thought 
 the Sloyds would yield. " Be strong about it," Iver had 
 said. " These young fellows have plenty of enterprise, 
 plenty of shrewdness, but they haven't got the grit to 
 take big chances. They'll catch at a certainty." Sloyd's 
 manner had gone far to bear out this opinion. 
 
 Sloyd returned, but, instead of coming in directly, he 
 held the door and allowed another to pass in front of 
 him. Duplay jumped up with a muttered exclamation. 
 What the deuce was Harry Tristram doing there? 
 Harry advanced, holding out his hand. 
 
 " We neither of us thought we should meet in this 
 way, Major Duplay? The world's full of surprises. 
 I've learnt that anyhow, and I dare say you've known it 
 a long while." 
 
 " You're in this business ? " cried the Major, too as- 
 tonished for any preamble. 
 
 [256]
 
 In the Matter of Blinkhampton 
 
 Harry nodded. " Let's get through it," he said. 
 " Because it's very simple. Sloyd and I have made up 
 our minds exactly what we ought to have." 
 
 It was the same manner that the Major remembered 
 seeing by the Pool — perhaps a trifle less aggressive, but 
 making up for that byan even increased self-confidence. 
 Duplay had thought of his former successful rival as a 
 broken man. He was not that. He had never thought 
 of him as a speculator in building land. Seemingly that 
 was what he had become. 
 
 Harry sat down by the table, Sloyd standing by him 
 and spreading out before him a plan of Blinkhampton 
 and the elevation of a row of buildings. 
 
 " You ask us," Harry went on resentfully, almost 
 accusingly, " to throw up this thing just when we're 
 ready to go ahead. Everything's in train ; we could 
 begin work to-morrow." 
 
 " Come, come, where are you going to get the 
 money ? " interrupted Duplay. He felt that he must 
 assert himself. 
 
 " Never mind, we can get it ; or we can wait till 
 we do. We shut you out just as badly whether we 
 leave the old buildings or put up new. However, we 
 shall get it. I'm satisfied as to that." 
 
 " You've heard my ofifer? " 
 
 " Yes," smiled Harry. " The reward for getting 
 ahead of Mr Iver is, it seems, two thousand pounds. It 
 must be done pretty often if it's as cheap as that! 1 
 hope he's well ? " 
 
 " Quite well, Mr Tristram, thank you. But when you 
 talk of getting ahead of him " 
 
 " Well, I put it plainly; that's all. I'm new to this, 
 and I dare say Sloyd here would put it better. But my 
 money's in it, so I like to have my say." 
 
 Both the dislike and the reluctant respect of old days 
 were present in the Major's mind. He felt that the 
 
 I.257J
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 quality on whose absence Iver had based his calcula- 
 tions had been supplied. Harry might be ignorant. 
 Sloyd could supply the knowledge. Harry had that 
 grit which hitherto the firm had lacked. Harry seemed 
 to guess something of what was passing through his 
 adversary's mind. 
 
 *' I don't want to be anything but friendly. Neither 
 Sloyd nor I want that — especially toward Mr Iver — or 
 toward you, Major. We've been neighbors." He 
 smiled and went on, smiling still : " Oddly enough, I've 
 said what I'm going to say to you once before — on a 
 different occasion. You seem to have been trying to 
 frighten us. I am not to be frightened, that's all." 
 
 Sloyd whispered in his ear; Duplay guessed that he 
 counselled more urbanity ; Harry turned from him with 
 a rather contemptuous little laugh. " Oh, I've got my 
 living to earn now," Duplay heard him whisper — and 
 reflected that he had never wasted much time on polite- 
 ness, even before that necessity came upon him. 
 
 It was strange that Sloyd did not try to take any part 
 in the discussion. He wore an air of deference, partly 
 due no doubt to Harry's ability, yet having unmistak- 
 ably a social flavor about it. Harry's lordlinesses clung 
 to him still, and had their effect on his business partner. 
 Duplay lodged an angry inward protest to the effect 
 that they had none whatever on him. 
 
 " Perhaps I'd better just say what we want," Harry 
 pursued. " We've paid Masters twenty thousand. We 
 may be five hundred more out of pocket. Never mind 
 that." He pushed away the plans and elevations. 
 " You're empowered to treat, I suppose? " he asked. 
 Sloyd had whispered to him again. 
 
 " No," said Duplay. " But as a final offer, I think I 
 can pledge Mr Iver to go as far as five thousand (over 
 and above the twenty thousand of course) — to cover 
 absolutely evervthing, you know." 
 
 [258]
 
 In the Matter of Blinkhampton 
 
 " i\lnltiply your twenty-five by two, and we're your 
 men," said Harry. 
 
 " Multiply it by two ? Fifty thousand ? Oh, non- 
 sense ! " 
 
 " Twenty out of pocket — thirty profit. I call it very 
 reasonable." 
 
 Major Duplay rose with a decisive air. 
 
 " I'm afraid I'm wasting your time," he said, " and 
 my own too. I must say good-afternoon." 
 
 " Pray, Major Duplay, don't be so abrupt, sir. 
 
 We've " It was Sloyd who spoke, with an eager 
 
 gesture as though he would detain the visitor. Harry 
 turned on him with his ugliest haughtiest scowl. 
 
 " I thought you'd left this to me, Sloyd ? " he said. 
 
 Sloyd subsided, apologetic but evidently terrified. 
 Alas, that the grit had been supplied ! But for that a 
 triumph must have awaited the Major. Harry turned 
 to Duplay. 
 
 " I asked you before if you'd authority to treat. I 
 ask you now if you've authority to refuse to treat." 
 
 " I've authority to refuse to discuss absurdities." 
 
 "Doubtless. And to settle what are absurdities? 
 Look here. I don't ask you to accept that proposal 
 without referring to Mr Iver. I merely say that is the 
 proposal, and that we give Mr Iver three days to con- 
 sider it. After that our ofifer is withdrawn." 
 
 Sloyd was biting his nails — aye, those nails that he 
 got trimmed in Regent Street twice a week ; critical 
 transactions must bring grist to those skilled in mani- 
 cure. Duplay glanced from his troubled face to Harry's 
 solid, composed, even amused mask. 
 
 " And you might add," Harry went on, " that it would 
 be a very good thing if Mr Iver saw his way to run up 
 and have a talk with me. I think I could make him see 
 the thing from our point of view." Something seemed 
 to occur to him. " You must tell him that in ordinary 
 
 [259]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 circumstances I should propose to call on him and to 
 come wherever he was, but— well, he'll understand that 
 I don't want to go to Blentmouth just now." 
 
 The implied apology relieved what Duplay had begun 
 to feel an intolerable arrogance, but it was a concession 
 of form only, and did not touch the substance. The 
 substance was and remained an ultimatum. The Major 
 felt aggrieved ; he had been very anxious to carry his 
 first commission through triumphantly and with cdat. 
 For the second time Harry Tristram was in his path. 
 
 Harry rose. " That's all we can do to-day," he said. 
 " We shall wait to hear from Mr Iver." 
 
 " I really don't feel justified in putting such a proposi- 
 tion before him." 
 
 " Oh, that's for you to consider," shrugged Harry. 
 " I think I would though, if I were you. At the worst, 
 it will justify you in refusing to do business with us. 
 Do you happen to be walking down toward Pall Mall ? " 
 Sloyd's offices were in Mount Street. " Good-day, 
 Sloyd. I'll drop in to-morrow." 
 
 With an idea that some concession might still be 
 forthcoming, not from any expectation of enjoying his 
 walk, the Major consented to accompany Harry. 
 
 " It was a great surprise to see you appear," he said 
 as they started. " So odd a coincidence ! " 
 
 " Not at all," smiled Harry. " You guess why I went 
 into it ? No ? Well, of course, I know nothing about 
 such things really. But Sloyd happened to mention 
 that Iver wanted to buy, so I thought the thing must 
 be worth buying, and I looked into it." He laughed 
 a little. " That's one of the penalties of a reputation 
 like Iver's, isn't it?" 
 
 " But I didn't know you'd taken to business at all." 
 
 " Oh, one must do something. I can't sit down on 
 four hundred a year, you know. Besides, this is hardly 
 business. By-the-bye, though, I ought to be as much 
 
 [260]
 
 In the Matter of Blinkhampton 
 
 surpiised to see you. We've both lost our situation, is 
 that it, Major?" 
 
 Insensibly the Major began to find him rather pleas- 
 anter, not a man he would ever like really, but all 
 the same more tolerable than he had been at Blent ; 
 so Harry's somewhat audacious reference was received 
 with a grim smile. 
 
 " I knocked you out, you know," Harry pursued. 
 " Left to himself, I don't believe old Bob Broadley 
 would ever have moved. But I put him up to it." 
 
 "What?" Duplay had not expected this. 
 
 " Well, you tried to put me out, you see. Besides, 
 Janie Iver Hked him, and she didn't care about you — 
 or me either, for that matter. So just before I — well, 
 disappeared — T told Bob that he'd win if he went ahead. 
 And I gather he has won, hasn't he? " 
 
 A brief nod from Duplay answered him ; he was still 
 revolving the news about Bob Broadley. 
 
 " I'm afraid I haven't made you like me any better," 
 said Harry with a laugh. " And I don't go out of my 
 way to get myself disliked. Do you see why I men- 
 tioned that little fact about Bob Broadley just now? " 
 
 " I confess I don't, unless you wished to annoy me. 
 Or — pardon — perhaps you thought it fair that I should 
 know?" 
 
 " Neither the one nor the other. I didn't do it from 
 the personal point of view at all. You see. Bob had a 
 strong position — and didn't know it." 
 
 Duplay glanced at him. " Well," he said, " what you 
 did didn't help you, though it hurt me perhaps." 
 
 " I told him he had a strong position. Then he took 
 it. Hullo, here we are in Pall Alall. Now you see, don't 
 you. Major? " 
 
 " No, I don't." Duplay was short in manner again. 
 
 " You don't see any parallel between Bob's position 
 and our friend's up there in Mount Street ? " Harry 
 
 [261]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 laughed again as he held out his hand. " Well, you tell 
 the story to Iver and see if he does," he suggested, 
 
 " Oh, that's what you mean ? " growled Duplay. 
 
 " Yes," assented Harry, almost gleefully. " That's 
 what I mean ; only this time it won't hurt you, and I 
 think it w^ill help me. You've done all you could, you 
 know." 
 
 The touch of patronage came again. Duplay had 
 hard work to keep his temper under. Yet now it was 
 rather annoyance that he felt than the black dislike that 
 he used to harbor. Harry's misfortune had lessened 
 that. If only Harry had been more chastened by his 
 misfortune the annoyance might have gone too. Un- 
 fortunately, the young man seemed almost exultant. 
 
 " Well, good-by. Write to Sloyd — unless Iver de- 
 cides to come up. And don't forget that little story 
 about Bob Broadley! Because you'll find it useful, if 
 you think of frightening Sloyd. He can't move without 
 me — and I don't move without my price." 
 
 " You moved from Blent," Duplay reminded him, 
 stung to a sudden mahce. 
 
 " Yes," said Harry thoughtfully. " Yes, so I did. 
 Well, I suppose I had my price. Good-by." He 
 turned away and walked quickly down the street. 
 
 " What was his price ? " asked the Major, puzzled. 
 He was not aware that Harry had got anything out of 
 his surrender ; and even Harry himself seemed rather 
 to conclude that, since he had moved, he must have got 
 his price than to say that he had got it or to be able to 
 tell what it was. 
 
 But all that was not the question now. Duplay 
 sought the telegraph office and informed Iver of the 
 uncompromising attitude of the enemy. He added that 
 Harry Tristram was in the business and that Harry 
 suggested an interview. It was perhaps the most signi- 
 ficant tribute that Harry had yet received when, after 
 
 [262]
 
 In the Matter of Blinkhampton 
 
 a few minutes of surprise and a few more of considera- 
 tion, Iver telegraphed back that he would come up to 
 town, and wished an appointment to be made for him 
 with Mr Tristram. It was something to force Napo- 
 leon to come to the Peninsula. 
 
 In fact, the only thing that could upset Iver's plans 
 was blank defiance. Reviewing his memories of Harry 
 Tristram, he knew that defiance was just what he had 
 to fear. It was in the blood of the Tristrams, and pru- 
 dence made no better a resistance than propriety. 
 
 [263]
 
 XX 
 
 The Tristram Way — A Specimen 
 
 H 
 
 ARRY TRISTRAAI had led Lady Evens- , 
 wood to believe that he would inform himself 
 of his cousin's state of mind, or even open di- 
 rect communication with her. He had done nothing 
 to redeem this implied promise, although the remem- 
 brance of it had not passed out of his mind. But he 
 was disinclined to fulfil it. In the first place, he 
 was much occupied with the pursuits and interests of 
 his new life ; secondly, he saw no way to approach her 
 in which he would not seem a disagreeable reminder ; 
 he might even be taken for a beggar or at least regarded 
 as a reproachful suppliant. The splendor, the dramatic 
 effect of his surrender and of the scene which had led 
 up to it, would be endangered and probably spoilt by a 
 resumption of intercourse between them. His disap- 
 pearance had been magnificent — no other conclusion 
 could explain the satisfaction with which he looked 
 back on the episode. There was no material yet for a 
 reappearance equally striking. When he thought about 
 her — which was not very often just now — it was not to 
 say that he would never meet her again ; he liked her 
 too well, and she was too deeply bound up with the as- 
 sociations of his life for that ; but it was to decide to 
 postpone the meeting, and to dream perhaps of some 
 progress or turn of events which should present him 
 with his opportunity, and invest their renewed acquaint- 
 ance with an atmosphere as unusual and as stimulating 
 as that in which their first days together had been spent. 
 Thus thinking of her only as she affected him. he re- 
 
 [264]
 
 The Tristram Way — A Specimen 
 
 niained at heart insensible to the aspect of the case 
 which Lady Evenswood had commended to his notice. 
 Cecily's possible tinhappiness did not come home to 
 him. After all, she had everything and he nothing — 
 and even he was not insupportably unhappy. His idea, 
 perhaps, was that Blent and a high position would con- 
 sole most folk for somebody else's bad luck ; men in 
 bad luck themselves will easily take such a view as 
 that ; their intimacy makes a second-hand acquaint- 
 ance with sorrow seem a trifling trouble. 
 
 Yet he had known his mother well. And he had 
 made his surrender. Well, only a very observant man 
 can tell what his own moods may be ; it is too much to 
 ask anybody to prophesy another's ; and the last thing 
 a man appreciates is the family peculiarities — unless 
 he happens not to share them. 
 
 Southend was working quietly ; aided by Jenkinson 
 Neeld, he had prepared an elaborate statement and fired 
 it in at Mr Disney's door, himself retreating as hastily as 
 the urchin who has thrown a cracker. Lady Evens- 
 wood was trying to induce her eminent cousin to come 
 to tea. The Imp, in response to that official missive 
 which had made such an impression on her, was com- 
 piling her reminiscences of Heidelberg and Addie Tris- 
 tram. Everybody w^as at work, and it was vaguely 
 understood that Mr Disney was considering the matter, 
 at least that he had not consigned all the documents 
 to the waste-paper basket and the writers to perdition — 
 which was a great point gained with Mr Disney. " No 
 hurry, give me time " — " don't push it " — '* wait " — 
 " do nothing " — " the status quo " — all these various 
 phrases expressed Lord Southend's earnest and re- 
 iterated advice to the conspirators. A barony had, in 
 his judgment, begun to be a thing which might be 
 mentioned without a smile. And the viscounty — Well, 
 said Lady Evenswood, if Robert were once convinced, 
 
 [265]
 
 Tristram of Blk-nt 
 
 the want of precedents would not stop him ; precedents 
 must, after all, be made, and why should not Robert 
 make them ? 
 
 This then, the moment when all the wise and experi- 
 enced people were agreed that nothing could, should, or 
 ought to be done, was the chance for a Tristram. Addie 
 would have seized it without an instant's hesitation ; 
 Cecily, her blood unavoidably diluted with a strain of 
 Gainsborough, took two whole days to make the plunge 
 — two days and a struggle, neither of which would have 
 liappened had she been Addie. But she did at last 
 reach the conclusion that immediate action was neces- 
 sary, that she was the person to act, that she could en- 
 dure no more delay, that she must herself go to Harry 
 and do the one terrible thing which alone suited, met, 
 and could save the situation. It was very horrible to 
 her. Here was its last and irresistible fascination. 
 Mina supplied Harry's address — ostensibly for the pur- 
 pose of a letter ; nothing else was necessary but a han- 
 som cab. 
 
 In his quiet room in Duke Street, Harry was working- 
 out some details of the proposed buildings at Blink- 
 hampton. Iver was to come to town next day, and 
 Harry thought that the more entirely ready they 
 seemed to go on, the more eager Iver would be to stop 
 them ; so he was at it with his elevations, plans, and 
 estimates. It was just six o'clock, and a couple of 
 quiet hours stretched before him. Nothing was in his 
 mind except Blinkhampton ; he had forgotten himself 
 and his past fortunes, Blent and the rest of it ; he had 
 even forgotten the peculiarities of his own family. He 
 heard with most genuine vexation that a lady must see 
 him on urgent business ; but he had not experience 
 enough to embolden him to send word that he was out. 
 
 Such a message would probably have availed noth- 
 ing. Cecily was already at the door; she was in the 
 
 [266]
 
 The Tristram Way — A Specimen 
 
 room before he had done giving directions that she 
 should be admitted. Again the hkeness which had 
 already worked on him so powerfully struck him with 
 unlessencd force ; for its sake he sprang forward to 
 greet her and met her outstretched hands witii his. 
 There w-as no appearance of embarrassment about her, 
 rather a great gladness and a triumph in her own cour- 
 age in coming. She seemed quite sure that she had 
 done the right thing. 
 
 " You didn't come to me, so I came to you," she ex- 
 plained, as though the explanation were quite sul^cient. 
 
 She brought everything back to him very strongly — 
 and in a moment banished Blinkhampton. 
 
 " Does anybody know you've come? " 
 
 " No," she smiled. That was a part of the fun. 
 " Mina didn't know I was going out. You see every- 
 body's been doing something except me and " 
 
 " Everybody doing something? Doing what? " 
 
 " Oh, never mind now. Nothing of any real use." 
 
 " There's nothing to do," said Harry with a smile and 
 a shrug. 
 
 She was a little disappointed to find him looking so 
 well, so cheerful, so busy. But the new impression was 
 not strong enough to upset the preconceptions with 
 which she had come. " I've come to tell vou I can't 
 bear it," she said. " Oh, w4iy did vou ever do it, 
 Harry?" 
 
 " On my honor I don't know," he admitted after a 
 moment's thought. "Won't you sit down?" He 
 watched her seat herself, actually hoping for the famous 
 attitude. Cut she w^as too excited for it. She sat up- 
 right, her hands clasped on her knees. Her air was one 
 of gravity, of tremulous importance. She realized what 
 she was going to do ; if she had failed to understand its 
 very unusual character she would probably never have 
 done it at all. 
 
 [267J
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " I can't bear this state of things," she began. " I 
 can't endure it any longer." 
 
 " Oh, I can, I'm all right. I hope you haven't been 
 worrying ? " 
 
 " Worr3dng! I've robbed you, robbed you of every- 
 thing. Oh, 1 know you did it yourself ! That makes it 
 worse. How did I come to make you do it? " 
 
 " I don't know," he said again. " Well, you seemed 
 so in your place at Blent. Somehow you made me feel 
 
 an interloper. And " He paused a moment. 
 
 " Yes, I'm glad," he ended. 
 
 " No, no, you mustn't be glad," she cried quickly. 
 " Because it's unendurable, unendurable ! " 
 
 " To you ? It's not to me. I thought it might be. 
 It isn't." 
 
 " Yes, to me, to me ! Oh, end it for me, Harry, end it 
 for me ! " 
 
 She was imploring, she was the suppliant. The re- 
 versal of parts, strange in itself, hardly seemed strange 
 to Harry Tristram. And it made him quite his old self 
 again. He felt that he had something to give. But her 
 next words shattered that delusion. 
 
 " You must take it back. Let me give it back to 
 you," she prayed. 
 
 He was silent a full minute before he answered slowly 
 and coldly : 
 
 " From anybody else I should treat that as an insult ; 
 with you I'm willing to think it merely ignorance. In 
 either case the absurdity's the same." He turned away 
 from her with a look of distaste, almost of disgust. 
 " How in the world could you do it ? " he added by way 
 of climax. 
 
 " I could do it. In one way I could." She rose as he 
 turned back to her. " I want you to have Blent. 
 You're the proper master of Blent. Do you think I 
 want to have it by accident ? " 
 
 [268]
 
 The Tristram Way — A Specimen 
 
 " You have it by law, not by accident," he answered 
 curtly. He was growing angry. " Why do you come 
 here and unsettle me ? " he demanded. " I wasn't think- 
 ing of it. And then you come here ! " 
 
 She was apologetic no longer. She faced him boldly. 
 
 " You ought to think of it," she insisted. " And, yes, 
 I've come here because it was right for me to come, be- 
 cause I couldn't respect myself unless I came. I want 
 you to take back Blent." 
 
 " What infernal nonsense ! " he exclaimed. " You 
 know it's impossible." 
 
 " No," she said ; she was calm but her breath came 
 quick. " There's one way in which it's possible." 
 
 In an instant he understood her ; there was no need 
 of more words. She knew herself to be understood as 
 she looked at him ; and for a while she looked steadily. 
 But his gaze too was long, and it became very search- 
 ing, so that presently, in spite of her efforts, she felt 
 herself flushing red, and her eyes fell. The room had 
 become uncomfortably quiet too. At last he spoke. 
 
 " I suppose you remember what I told you about 
 Janie Iver," he said, " and that's how you came to 
 think I might do this. You must see that that was 
 different. I gave as much as I got there. She was 
 
 rich, I was " He smiled sourly. " I was Tristram 
 
 of Blent. You are Tristram of Blent, I am " He 
 
 shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 He made no reference to the personal side of the case. 
 She was not hurt, she was enormously relieved. 
 
 " I'm not incUned to be a pensioner on my wife," he 
 said. 
 
 She opened her lips to speak ; she was within an ace 
 of telling him that, if this and that went well, he would 
 have so assured and recognized a position that none 
 could throw stones at him. Her words died away in 
 face of the percmptorv finality of his words and the 
 
 ' [269J
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 bitter anger on his face. She sat silent and forlorn, 
 wondering what had become of her resolve and her 
 inspiration. 
 
 " In my place you would feel as I do," he said a 
 moment later. His tone was milder. " You can't deny 
 it," he insisted. " Look me in the face and deny it if 
 you can. I know you too well." 
 
 For some minutes longer she sat still. Then she got 
 up with a desolate air. Everything seemed over ; the 
 great offer, with its great scene, had come to very little. 
 Anticlimax, foe to emotion ! She remembered how the 
 scene in the Long Gallery had gone. So much better, 
 so much better ! But Harry dominated her — and he 
 had stopped the scene. Without attempting to bid him 
 any farewell she moved toward the door slowly and 
 drearily. 
 
 She was arrested by his voice — a new voice, very 
 good-natured, rather chaffing. 
 
 ** Are you doing anything particular to-night ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 She turned round ; he was smiling at her in an open 
 but friendly amusement. 
 
 " No," she murmured. " I'm going back home, I 
 suppose." 
 
 " To Blent ? " he asked quickly. 
 
 " No, to our house. Mina's there and " Her 
 
 face was puzzled ; she left her sentence unfinished. 
 
 " Well, I've got nothing to do. Let's have dinner 
 and go somewhere together ? " 
 
 Their eyes met. Gradually Cecily's lightened into a 
 sparkle as her lips bent and her white teeth showed a 
 little. She was almost laughing outright as she an- 
 swered readily, without so much as a show of hesitation 
 or a hint of surprise, *' Yes." 
 
 Nothing else can be so ample as a monosyllable is 
 sometimes. If it had been Harry's object to escape 
 
 [270]
 
 The Tristram Way — A Specimen 
 
 from a tragic or sensational situation he had achieved 
 it triumphantly. The question was no longer who 
 should have Blent, but where they should have dinner. 
 Nothing in his manner showed that he had risked and 
 succeeded in a hazardous experiment ; he had brought 
 her down to the level of common-sense — that is, to his 
 own view of things ; incidentally he had secured what 
 he hoped would prove a very pleasant evening. Finally 
 he meant to have one more word with her on the matter 
 of her visit before they parted. His plan was very clear 
 in his head. By the end of the evening she would have 
 forgotten the exalted mood which had led her into ab- 
 surdity ; she would listen to a few wise and weighty 
 words — such as he would have at command. Then the 
 ludicrous episode would be over and done with for- 
 ever ; to its likeness, superficially at least rather strong, 
 to that other scene in which he had been chief actor 
 his mind did not advert. 
 
 A very pleasant evening it proved ; so that it pro- 
 longed itself, naturally as it were and without express 
 arrangement, beyond dinner and the play, and em- 
 braced in its many hours a little supper and a long 
 drive in a cab to those distant regions where Cecily's 
 house was situated. There was no more talk of Blent ; 
 there was some of Harry's new life, its features and its 
 plans ; there was a good deal about nothing in par- 
 ticular ; and there was not much of any sort as they 
 drove along in the cab at one o'clock in the morning. 
 
 But Harry's purpose was not forgotten. He bade the 
 cabman wait and followed Cecily into the house. He 
 looked round it with lively interest and curiosity. 
 
 " wSo this is where you came from ! " he exclaimed 
 with a compassionate smile. " You do want something 
 to make up for this ! " 
 
 She laughed as she took off her hat and sank into a 
 chair. " Yes, this is — home," she said. 
 
 [271]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " Have you had a pleasant evening ? " he demanded. 
 
 " You know I have." 
 
 " Are you feeling friendly to me ? " 
 
 Now came the attitude ; she threw herself into it and 
 smiled. 
 
 " That's what I wanted," he went on. " Now I can 
 say what I have to say." 
 
 She sat still, waiting to hear him. There was now no 
 sign of uneasiness about her. She smiled luxuriously, 
 and her eyes were resting on his face with evident 
 pleasure. They were together again as they had been 
 in the Long Gallery ; the same contentment possessed 
 her. The inner feeling had its outward effect. There 
 came on him the same admiration, the same sense that 
 she commanded his loyalty. When she had come to 
 his rooms that afternoon he had found it easy to rebuke 
 and to rule her. His intent for the evening had been 
 the same ; he had sought to bring her to a more friendly 
 mind chiefly that she might accept with greater readi- 
 ness the chastening of cool common-sense, and a re- 
 buke from the decent pride which her proposal had 
 outraged. Harry was amazed to find himself suddenly 
 at a loss, looking at the girl, hardly knowing how to 
 speak to her. 
 
 " Well ? " she said. Where now was the tremulous 
 excitement ? She was magnificently at her ease and 
 commanded him to speak, if he had anything to say. 
 If not, let him hold his peace. 
 
 But he was proud and obstinate too. They came to a 
 conflict there in the little room — the forgotten cab wait- 
 ing outside, the forgotten Mina beginning to stir in her 
 bed as voices dimly reached her ears and she awoke 
 to the question — where was Cecily ? 
 
 " If we're to be friends," Harry began, " I must hear 
 no more of what you said this afternoon. You asked 
 
 me to be a pensioner, you proposed yourself to be " 
 
 [272]
 
 The Tristram Way — A Specimen 
 
 He did not finish. The word was not handy, or he 
 wished to spare her. 
 
 She showed no signs of receiving mercy. 
 
 " Very well," she said, smiling. " If you knew every- 
 thing, you wouldn't talk like that. I suppose you've 
 no idea what it cost me ? " 
 
 " What it cost vou ? " 
 
 She broke into a scornful laugh. " You know what it 
 really meant. Still you've only a scolding for me ! 
 How funny that you see one half and not the other ! 
 But you've given me a very pleasant evening, Cousin 
 Harry." 
 
 " You must leave my life alone," he insisted 
 brusquely. 
 
 " Oh, yes, for the future. I've nothing left to ofifer, 
 have I ? I have been — refused ! " She seemed to ex- 
 ult in the abandonment of her candor. 
 
 He looked at her angrily, almost dangerously. For a 
 passing moment she had a sensation of that physical 
 fear from which no moral courage can wholly redeem 
 the weak in body. But she showed none of it ; her pose 
 was unchanged ; only the hand on which her head 
 rested shook a little. And she began to laugh. " You 
 look as if you were going to hit mc," she said. 
 
 " Oh, you do talk nonsense ! " he groaned. But she 
 was too much for him ; he laughed too. She had 
 spoken with such a grand security. " If you tell me to 
 walk out of the door I shall go." 
 
 " Well, in five minutes. It's very late." 
 
 " Oh, we weren't bred in Bayswater," he reminded 
 her. 
 
 " I was — in Chelsea." 
 
 " So you say. I think in heaven — no, Olympus — 
 really." 
 
 " Have you said what you wanted to say, Cousin 
 Harry ? "
 
 Tristram ^t/ Blent 
 
 " I suppose you hadn't the least idea what you were 
 doing ? " 
 
 " I was as cool as you were when you gave nic 
 Blent." 
 
 " You're cool enough now, anyhow," he admitted, in 
 admiration of her parry. 
 
 '* Quite, thanks." The hand behind her head 
 trembled sorely. His eyes were on her, and a confusion 
 threatened to overwhelm the composure of which she 
 boasted. 
 
 " I gave you Blent because it was yours," 
 
 " What I offered you is mine." 
 
 " By God, no. Never yours to give till you've lost 
 
 it ! " 
 
 With an effort she kept her pose. His words 
 hummed through her head. 
 
 " Did you say that to Janie Iver ? " she mustered 
 coolness to ask him mockingly. 
 
 He thrust away the taunt with a motion of his hand ; 
 one of Gainsborough's gimcracks fell smashed on the 
 floor. Cecily laughed, glad of the excuse to seem at 
 her ease. 
 
 "Hang the thing! If you'd loved me, you'd have 
 been ashamed to do it." 
 
 " I was ashamed without loving you, Cousin Harry." 
 
 " Oh, do drop ' Cousin ' Harry ! " 
 
 " Well, I proposed to. But you wouldn't." Her only 
 refuge now was in quips and verbal victories. They 
 served her well, for Harry, less master of himself than 
 usual, was hindered and tripped up by them. " Still, if 
 we ever meet again, I'll say ' Harry ' if you Hke." 
 
 " Of course we shall meet again." She surprised 
 that out of him. 
 
 " It'll be so awkward for me now," she laughed 
 lightly. But her mirth broke off suddenly as he came 
 closer and stood over her. 
 
 [274]
 
 The Tristram Way — A Specimen 
 
 " I could hate you for coming to me with that offer," 
 he said. 
 
 Almost hating- herself now, 3^et sorely wounded that 
 he should think of hating her, she answered him in a 
 fury. 
 
 " Well then, shouldn't I hate you for giving me 
 Blent ? That was worse. You could refuse, I couldn't. 
 I have it, I have to keep it." In her excitement she 
 rose and faced him. " And because of you I can't be 
 happy ! " she cried resentfully. 
 
 " I see ! I ought to have drowned myself, instead of 
 merely going away ? Oh, I know I owe the world at 
 large apologies for my existence, and you in particular, 
 of course ! Unfortunately, though, I intend to go on 
 existing ; I even intend to live a life of my own — not 
 the life of a hanger-on — if you'll kindly allow me." 
 
 " Would any other man in the world talk like this 
 after ? " 
 
 ** Any man who had the sense to see what you'd done. 
 I'm bound to be a nuisance to you anyhow. I should be 
 least of a nuisance as your husband ! That was it. 
 Oh, I'm past astonishment at you." 
 
 His words sounded savage, but it was not their fierce- 
 ness that banished her mirth. It was the new light they 
 threw on that impulse of hers. She could only fall back 
 on her old recrimination. 
 
 " When you gave me Blent " 
 
 " Hold your tongue about Blent," he commanded 
 imperiously. " If it were mine again, and I came to 
 you and said, ' You're on my conscience, you fret mo, 
 vou worry me. Marrv me, and I shall be more comfort- 
 able ! ' What then ?'" 
 
 " Why, it would be just like you to do it ! " she cried 
 in malicious triumph. 
 
 " The sort of thing runs in the family, then." She 
 started at the plainness of his sneer. " Oh, yes, that 
 
 [275]
 
 Tristram <?/ Blent 
 
 was it. Well, what wovild your answer be ? Shall I 
 tell you ? You'd ask the first man who came by to 
 kick me out of the room. And you'd be right." 
 
 The truth of his words pierced her. She flushed red, 
 but she was resolved to admit nothing. Before him, at 
 any rate, she would cling to her case, to the view of her 
 own action to which she stood committed. He at least 
 should never know that now at last he had made her 
 bitterly and horribly ashamed, with a shame not foi 
 what she had proposed to do herself, but for what she 
 had dared to ask him to do. She saw the thing now 
 as he saw it. Had his manner softened, had he made 
 any appeal, had he not lashed her with the bitterest 
 words he could find, she would have been in tears at 
 his feet. But now she faced him so boldly that he took 
 her flush to mean anger. He turned away from her 
 and picked up his hat from the chair on which he had 
 thrown it. 
 
 " Well, that's all, isn't it ? " he asked. 
 
 Before she had time to answer, there was a cry from 
 the doorway, full of astonishment, consternation, and (it 
 must be added) outraged propriety. For it was past 
 two o'clock and Mina Zabriska, for all her freakishness, 
 had been bred on strict lines of decorum. " Cecily ! " 
 she cried. " And you ! " she added a moment later. 
 They turned and saw her standing there in her dressing- 
 gowm, holding a candle. The sudden turn of events, the 
 introduction of this new figure, the intrusion that 
 seemed so absurd, overcame Cecily. She sank back in 
 her chair, and laid her head on her hands on the table, 
 laughing hysterically. Harry's frown grew heavier. 
 
 " Oh, you're there ? " he said to Mina. " You're in it 
 too, I suppose ? I've always had the misfortune to in- 
 terest you, haven't I ? You wanted to turn me out 
 first. Now you're trying to put me in again, are you ? 
 Oh, you women, can't you leave a man alone ? " 
 
 [2/6]
 
 The Tristram Way — A Specimen 
 
 " 1 don't know what you're talking about. And 
 what are you doing here ? Do vou know it's half-past 
 two ? " ' 
 
 " It would be all the same to me if it was half-past 
 twenty-two," said Harry contemptuously. 
 
 " You've been with her all the time ? " 
 
 " Oh, lord, yes. Are you the chaperon ? " He 
 laughed, as he unceremoniously clapped his hat on his 
 head. " We've had an evening out, my cousin and I, 
 and I saw her home. And now I'm going home. 
 Nothing wrong, I hope, Aladame Zabriska?" 
 
 Cecily raised her head ; she was laughing still, with 
 tears in her eyes. 
 
 Mina looked at her. Considerations of propriety fell 
 into the background. 
 
 " But what's it all about ? " she cried. 
 
 " I'll leave Cecily to tell you." He was quiet now, but 
 with a vicious quietness. " I've been explaining that I 
 have a preference for being left alone. Perhaps it may 
 not be superfluous to mention the fact to you too, 
 Madame Zaljriska. My cab's waiting. Good-night." 
 He looked a moment at Cecily, and his eyes seemed to 
 dwell a little longer than he had meant. In a tone 
 rather softer and more gentle he repeated, '' Good- 
 night." 
 
 Cecily sprang to her feet. " I shall remember ! " she 
 cried. " I shall remember ! If ever — if ever the time 
 comes, I shall remember ! " Her voice was full of bit- 
 terness, her manner proudly defiant. 
 
 Harry hesitated a moment, then smiled grimly. " I 
 shouldn't be able to complain of that," he said, as he 
 turned and went out to his cab. 
 
 Cecily threw herself into her chair again. The be- 
 wildered Imp stood staring at her. 
 
 " I didn't know where you were," Mina complained. 
 
 " Oh, it doesn't matter."
 
 Tristram ^Blent 
 
 " Fancy being here with him at this time of night ! " 
 
 Cecily gave no signs of hearing this superficial criti- 
 cism on her conduct. 
 
 " You must tell me what it's all about," Mina in- 
 sisted. 
 
 Cecily raised her eyes with a weary air, as though she 
 spoke of a distasteful subject unwillingly and to no good 
 purpose. 
 
 " I went to tell him he could get Blent back by 
 marrying me."' 
 
 " Cecily ! " Alan) emotions were packed into the 
 cry. " What did he say ? " 
 
 Cecily seemed to consider for a moment, then she 
 answered slowly : 
 
 " Well, he very nearly beat me — and I rather wish he 
 had," she said. 
 
 The net result of the day had distinctly not been to 
 further certain schemes. All that had been achieved — 
 and both of them had contributed to it — was an admi- 
 rable example of the Tristram way. 
 
 [278]
 
 XXI 
 
 The Persistence of Blent 
 
 HARRY TRISTRAM awoke the next morning 
 with visions in his head — no unusual thing with 
 young men, yet strange and almost unknown 
 to him. They had not been wont to come at Blent, nor 
 had his affair with Janie Iver created them. Possibly 
 a constant, although unconscious, reference of all at- 
 tractions to the standard, or the tradition, of Addie 
 Tristram's had hitherto kept him free ; or perhaps it 
 was merely that there were no striking attractions in 
 the valley of the Blent. Anyhow the visions were here 
 now, a series of them covering all the hours of the even- 
 ing before, and embodying for him the manifold 
 changes of feeling which had marked the time. He saw 
 himself as well as Cecily, and the approval of his eyes 
 was still for himself, their irritation for her. But he 
 could not dismiss her from the pictures ; he realized 
 this with a new annoyance. He lay later than his cus- 
 tom was, looking at her, recalling what she had said as 
 he found the need of words to write beneath each 
 mental apparition. Under the irritation, and greater 
 than it, was the same sort of satisfaction that his ac- 
 tivities had given him — a feeling of more life and 
 broader ; this thing, though rising out of the old life, 
 fitted in well with the new. Above all, that sentence 
 of hers rang in his head, its extravagance perhaps gain- 
 ing pre-eminence for it : " If ever the time comes, I 
 shall remember ! " The time did not seem likely to 
 come — so far as he could interpret the vague and rather 
 
 [279]
 
 Tristram /?/ Blent 
 
 threadbare phrase — but her resolution stirred his in- 
 terest, and ended by exacting his applause. He was 
 glad that she had resisted, and had not allowed herself 
 to be trampled on. Though the threat was very empty, 
 its utterance showed a high spirit, such a spirit as he 
 still wished to preside over Blent. It was just what 
 his mother might have said, with an equal intensity of 
 determination and an equal absence of definite pur- 
 pose. But then the whole proceedings had been just 
 what he could imagine his mother bringing about. 
 Consequently he was rather blind to the extraordinary 
 character of the step Cecily had taken ; so far he was 
 of the same clay as his cousin. He was, however, none 
 the less outraged by it, and none the less sure that 
 he had met it in the right way. Yet he did not con- 
 sider that there was any quarrel between them, and 
 he meant to see more of her; he was accustomed to 
 " scenes " occurring and leaving no permanent es- 
 trangement or bitterness ; the storms blew over the 
 sand, but they did not in the end make much differ- 
 ence in the sand. 
 
 There was work to be done — the first grave critical 
 bit of work he had ever had to do, the first real meas- 
 uring of himself against an opponent of proved ability. 
 So he would think no more about the girl. This re- 
 solve did not work. She, or rather her apparition, 
 seemed to insist that she had something to do with the 
 work, was concerned in it, or at least meant to look 
 on at it. Harry found that he had small objection, or 
 even a sort of welcome for her presence. Side by side 
 with the man's pleasure in doing the thing, there was 
 still some of the boy's delight in showing he could do it. 
 What had passed yesterday, particularly that idea of 
 doing things for him which he had detected and raged 
 at, made it additionally pleasant that he should be seen 
 to be capable of doing things for himself. All this was 
 
 [280]
 
 The Persistence of Blent 
 
 vague, but it was in his mind as he walked to Sloyd's 
 offices. 
 
 Grave and critical ! Sloyd's nervous excitement 
 and uneasy deference toward Tver were the only indi- 
 cations of any such thing. Duplay was there in the 
 background, cool and easy. Tver himself was inclined 
 to gossip with Harry and to chafif him on the fresh 
 departure he had made, rather than to settle down to 
 a discussion of Blinkhampton. That was after all a 
 small matter — so his manner seemed to assert ; he had 
 been in town anyhow, so he dropped in ; Duplay had 
 made a point of it in his scrupulous modesty as to his 
 own experience. Harry found that he could resist the 
 impression he was meant to receive only by saying to 
 himself as he faced his old friend and present an- 
 tagonist : " But you're here — you're here — you're 
 here ! " Iver could neither gossip nor argue that fact 
 away. 
 
 " Well now," said iver with a glance at his watch, 
 " we must really get to business. You don't want to 
 live in Blinkhampton, you gentlemen, I suppose ? 
 You want to leave a little better for your visit, eh ? 
 Quite so. That's the proper thing with the sea-side. 
 But you can't expect to find fortunes growing on the 
 beach. Surely Alajor Duplay mistook your figures ? " 
 
 " Unless he mentioned fifty thousand, he did," said 
 Harry firmly. 
 
 " H'm, I did you injustice, Major — with some ex- 
 cuse, though. Surely, Mr Sloyd ? " He turned 
 
 away from Harry as he spoke. 
 
 " I beg pardon," interrupted Harry. " Am I to talk 
 to Major Duplay ? " 
 
 Iver looked at him curiously. " Well, I'd rather talk 
 to you, Harry," he said. " And I'll tell you plainly 
 what I think. Mr Sloyd's a young business man — so 
 are vou." 
 
 [281J
 
 Tristram of Blent. 
 
 *' I'm a baby," Harry agreed. 
 
 " And blackmailing big people isn't a good way to 
 start." He watched Harry, but he did not forget to 
 watch Sloyd too. " Of course I use the word in a 
 ligurative sense. The estate's not worth half that 
 money to you ; we happen to want it — Oh, I'm always 
 open ! — So " He gave a shrug. 
 
 " Sorry to introduce new and immoral methods into 
 business, Mr Iver. It must be painful to you after all 
 these years." Harry laughed good-humoredly. " I 
 shall corrupt the Major too! " he added. 
 
 " We'll give you five thousand for your bargain — 
 twenty-five in all." 
 
 " I suggested to Major Duplay that being ahead of 
 you was so rare an achievement that it ought to be 
 Droperly recognized." 
 
 Duplay whispered to Iver. Sloyd whispered to 
 Harry. Iver listened atentively, Harry with evident 
 impatience. " Let it go for thirty, don't make an 
 enemy of him," had been Sloyd's secret counsel. 
 
 " My dear Harry, the simple fact is that the business 
 won't stand more than a certain amount. If we put 
 money into Blinkhampton, it's because we want it to 
 come out again. Now the crop will be limited." He 
 paused. " I'll make you an absolutely final ofifer — 
 thirty." 
 
 " My price is fifty," said Harry immovably. 
 
 " Out of the question." 
 
 " All right." Harry lit a cigarette with an air of 
 having finished the business. 
 
 " It simply cannot be done on the figures," Iver de- 
 clared with genuine vexation. " We've worked it out, 
 Harry, and it can't be done. If I showed our calcula- 
 tions to Mr Sloyd, who is, I'm sure^ willing to be 
 reasonable " 
 
 " Yes, Mr Iver, I am. I am, I hope, always desirous 
 
 [282]
 
 The Persistence of Blent 
 
 of — er — meeting gentlemen half-way ; and nothing 
 could give me greater pleasure than to do business 
 with you, Mr Iver." 
 
 " Unfortunately you seem to have — a partner," Iver 
 observed. " No, I've told you the most we can give." 
 He leant back in his chair. This time it was he who 
 had finished business. 
 
 " And I've told you the least we can take." 
 
 " It's hopeless. Fifty ! Oh, we should be out of 
 pocket. It's really unreasonable." He was looking at 
 Sloyd, " It's treating me as an enemy, — and I shall 
 have no alternative but to accept the situation. Blink- 
 hampton is not essential to me ; and your hotel and so 
 on won't flourish much if I leave my tumble-down 
 cottages and pigsties just behind them. Will you put 
 these papers together, Duplay ? " 
 
 The Alajor obeyed leisurely. Sloyd was licking his 
 lips and looking acutely unhappy. 
 
 " You're absolutely resolved, Harry ? " 
 
 " Absolutely, Mr Iver." 
 
 " Well, I give it up. It's bad for me, and it's worse 
 for you. In all my experience I never was so treated. 
 You won't even discuss ! If you'd said thirty-five, 
 well, I'd have listened. If you'd even said forty, I'd 
 have " 
 
 " 1 saw done for forty ! " said Harry cjuietly. " I'd 
 a sort of idea all the time that that might be your 
 limit. I expect the thing really wouldn't stand fifty, 
 you know. Oh, that's just my notion." 
 
 Iver's face was a study. He was surprised, he was 
 annoyed, but he was also somewhat amused. Harry's 
 acting had been good. That obstinate, uncompromising 
 immutable fifty ! — Iver had really believed in it. And 
 forty had been his limit — his extreme limit. He just 
 saw his way to square hi? accounts satisfactorily if he 
 were driven to pav that as the penalty of one of his
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 rare mistakes. He glanced at Sloyd ; radiant joy and 
 relief illumined that young man's face, as he gave his 
 mustache an upward twirl. Duplay was smiling — 
 yes, smiling. At last Iver smiled too. Harry was 
 grave — not solemn — but merely not smiling because 
 he did not perceive anything to smile at. No doubt he 
 was gratified by the success of his tactics, and pleased 
 that his formidable opponent had been deceived by 
 them. But he thought nothing of what impressed 
 Iver most. The tactics had been, no doubt, well con- 
 ceived and carried out, but they were ordinary enough 
 in their nature ; Iver himself, and dozens of men he 
 had met, could have executed them as well. What 
 struck him was that Harry knew how far he could go, 
 that he stopped on the verge, but not beyond -the 
 boundary where a deal was possible. Mere guess- 
 work could not account for that, nor had he commanded 
 the sources of information which would have made the 
 conclusion a matter of ordinary intelligent calculation. 
 No, he had intuitions ; he must have an eye. Now eyes 
 were rare ; and when they were found they were to 
 be used. Iver was much surprised at finding one in 
 Harry. Yet it must be in Harry ; Iver was certain 
 that Sloyd had known nothing of the plan of campaign 
 or of the decisive figure on which his associate had 
 pitched. 
 
 " ril give you forty," he said at last. " For the 
 whole thing, lock, stock, and barrel — forty." 
 
 " It's a bargain," said Harry, and Iver, with a sigh 
 (for forty was the extreme figure), pushed back his 
 chair and rose to his feet. 
 
 " We've got a good many plans, sir," suggested 
 Sloyd, very anxious to establish pleasant relations. 
 " I'm sure we should be very glad if you found them 
 of any service." 
 
 " You're vcrv good, Mr Sloyd, but " 
 
 [284]
 
 The Persistence of Blent 
 
 " You may as well have a look at them," interrupted 
 Harry. " There are one or two good ideas. You'll ex- 
 plain them, won't you, Sloyd ? " 
 
 Sloyd had already placed one in Iver's hand, who 
 glanced at it, took another, compared them, and after a 
 minute's pause held both out to the Major. 
 
 " Well, Duplay, suppose you look at them and hear 
 anything that Mr Sloyd is good enough to say, and re- 
 port to me ? You're at leisure ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said Duplay. He was in good humor, 
 better perhaps than if his chief had proved more 
 signally successful. Harry turned to him, smil- 
 ing. 
 
 " I saw Madame Zabriska last night, at Lady Tris- 
 tram's house. She's forsaken you. Major ? " , 
 
 " Mina's very busy about something," smiled the 
 Major. 
 
 " Yes, she generally is," said Harry, frowning a 
 little. " If she tells you anything about me " 
 
 " I'm not to believe it? " 
 
 " You may believe it, but not the way she puts it," 
 laughed Harry. 
 
 " Now there's an end of business ! Walk down to 
 the Imperium with me, Harry, and have a bit of lunch. 
 You've earned it, eh ? How do you like the feeUng of 
 making money ? " 
 
 " Well, I think it might grow on a man. What's 
 your experience ? " 
 
 " Sometimes better than this morning, or I should 
 hardly have been your neighbor at Fairholme." 
 
 The two walked off together, leaving Duplay and 
 Sloyd very amicable. Iver was thoughtful. 
 
 " You did that well," he said as they turned the cor- 
 ner into Berkeley Square. 
 
 " I suppose I learnt to bluff a bit when I was at 
 Blent." 
 
 [285]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " That was all right, but — well, how did you put your 
 finger on the figure ? " 
 
 " I don't know. It looked like being about that, 
 you know." 
 
 " It was very exactly that," admitted Iver. 
 
 " Rather a surprise to find our friend the Major go- 
 ing into business with you." 
 
 " He'll be useful, I think, and — well, I'm short of 
 help." He was eying Harry now, but he said no more 
 about the morning's transaction till they reached the 
 club. 
 
 " Perhaps we shall find Neeld here," he remarked, 
 as they went in. 
 
 They did find Neeld, and also Lord Southend, the 
 latter gentleman in a state of disturbance about his 
 curry. It was not what any man would seriously call 
 a curry ; it was no more than a fortuitous concurrence 
 of mutton and rice. 
 
 " It's an extraordinary thing," he observed to Iver, 
 " that whenever Wilmot Edge is away, the curries in 
 this club go to the devil — to the devil. And he's al- 
 ways going off somewhere, confound him ! " 
 
 " He can't be expected to stay at home just to look 
 after your curry," Iver suggested. 
 
 " I suppose he's in South America, or South Africa, 
 or South somewhere or other out of reach. Waiter ! " 
 The embarrassed servant came. " When is Colonel 
 Edge expected back ? " 
 
 " In a few weeks, I believe, my Lord." 
 Who's Chairman of the Committee while he's 
 
 << 
 
 away ^ 
 
 " Mr Gore-Marston, my Lord." 
 
 '' There — what can you expect ? " He pushed away 
 his plate. " Bring me some cold beef," he commanded, 
 and the waiter brought it with an air that said " Icha- 
 bod " for the Imperium. " As soon as ever Edge 
 
 [286]
 
 The Persistence of Blent 
 
 comes back, I shall draw his attention to tht 
 curry," 
 
 Everybody else had rather lost their interest in the 
 subject. Neeld and Harry were in conversation. Iver 
 sat down by Southend, and, while lunch was preparing, 
 endeavored to distract his mind by giving him a history 
 of the morning. Southend too was concerned in Blink- 
 hampton. Gradually the curry w^as forgotten as he 
 listened to the story of Harry's victory. 
 
 " Sort of young fellow who might be useful ? " he 
 suggested presently. 
 
 " That's what I was thinking. He's quite ready to 
 work too, I fancy." 
 
 Southend regarded his friend. He was thinking that 
 if this and that happened — and they were things now 
 within the bounds of possibility — Iver might live to be 
 sorry that Harry was not to be his son-in-law. Hastily 
 and in ignorance he included Janie in the scope of this 
 supposed regret. But at this moment the guilty and 
 incompetent Mr Gore-Marston had the misfortune to 
 come in. Southend, all his grievance revived, fell on 
 him tooth and nail. His defence was feeble ; he ad- 
 mitted that he knew next to nothing of curries, and — 
 yes, the cook did get careless when Wilmot Edge's 
 vigilant eye was removed. 
 
 " He'll be home soon," Gore-Marston pleaded. 
 " I've had a letter from him ; he's just got back to civil- 
 ization after being out in the wilderness, shooting, for 
 six weeks. He'll be here in a month now, I think." 
 
 " We shall have to salary him to stay," growled 
 Southend. 
 
 Harry was amused at this little episode, and listened 
 smiling. Possessing a knowledge of curries seemed an 
 odd way to acquire importance for a fellow-creature, a 
 strange reason for a man's return being desired. He 
 knew who Wilmot Edge was, and it was funny to hear 
 
 [287J
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 of him again in connection with curries. And curries 
 seemed the only reason why anybody should be in- 
 terested in Colonel Edge's return. Not till they met 
 again in the smoking-room were the curries finally 
 forgotten. 
 
 In later days Harry came to look back on that after- 
 noon as the beginning of many new things for him. 
 Iver and Southend talked ; old Mr Neeld sat by, listen- 
 ing with the interest of a man who feels he has missed 
 something in life and would fain learn, even though he 
 is too old to turn the knowledge to account. Harry 
 found himself listening too, but in a different way. 
 
 They were not talking idly ; they talked for him. 
 That much he soon discerned. And they were not 
 offering to help him. His vigilant pride, still sore from 
 the blow that Cecily had dealt it, was on the look-out 
 for that. But the triumph of the morning, no less than 
 the manner of the men, reassured him. It is in its way 
 an exciting moment for a young man when he first re- 
 ceives proof that his seniors, the men of actual achieve- 
 ment and admitted ability, think that there is some- 
 thing in him, that he can be of service to them, that it 
 is in his power, if it be in his will, to emerge from the 
 ruck and take a leading place. Harry was glad for 
 himself ; he would have been touched had he spared 
 time to observe how delighted old Neeld was on his 
 account. They made him no gift ; they asked work 
 from him, and Iver, true to his traditions and ingrained 
 ideas, asked money as a guarantee for the work. " You 
 give me back what I'm going to pay you," he said, 
 " and since you've taken such an interest in Blink- 
 hampton, turn to and see what you can make of it. 
 It looked as if there was a notion or two worth consid- 
 ering in those plans of yours." 
 
 Southend agreed to every suggestion with an em- 
 phatic nod. But there was something more in his 
 
 [288]
 
 The Persistence of Blent 
 
 mind. With every evidence of capability that Harry 
 showed, even with every increase in the chances of his 
 attaining position and weaUh for himself, the prospect 
 of success in the other scheme — the scheme still secret 
 — grew brighter. The thought of that queer little 
 woman Madame Zabriska, Harry's champion, came 
 into his mind. He would have something to tell her, 
 if ever they met again at Lady Evenswood's. He 
 would have something to tell Lady Evenswood her- 
 self too. He quite forgot his curry — and Colonel Wil- 
 mot Edge, who derived his importance from it. 
 
 Nothing was settled ; there were only suggestions 
 for Harry to think over. But he was left quite clear 
 that everything depended on himself alone, that he had 
 only to will and to work, and a career of prosperous 
 activity was before him. The day had more than ful- 
 filled its promise ; what had seemed its great triumph 
 appeared now to be valuable only as an introduction 
 and a prelude to something larger and more real. Al- 
 ready he was looking back with some surprise on the 
 extreme gravity which he had attached to his little 
 Blinkhampton speculation. He grew very readily 
 where he was given room to grow ; and all the while 
 there was the impulse to show himself — and others too 
 — that he did not depend on Blent or on having Blent. 
 Blent or no Blent, he was a man who could make him- 
 self felt. He was on his trial still of course ; but he 
 did not doubt of the verdict. When a thing depended 
 for success or failure on Harry alone, Harry had never 
 ])een in the habit of doubting the result. The Major 
 had noticed that trait in days which seemed now quite 
 long ago ; the Major had not liked it, but in the affairs 
 of life it probably had some value. 
 
 Except for one thing he seemed to be well settled 
 into his new existence. People had stopped staring at 
 him. They had almost ceased to talk of hini. He was 
 
 L28yJ
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 rapidly becoming a bygone story. Even to himself it 
 seemed months since he had been Tristram of Blent ; 
 he had no idea that any plans were afoot concerning 
 him which found their basis and justification in his hav- 
 ing filled that position. Except for one thing he was 
 quit of it all. But that remained, and in such strength 
 as to color all the new existence. The business of the 
 day had not driven out the visions of the morning. 
 Real things should drive out fancies ; it is serious. 
 perhaps deplorable, when the real things seem to de- 
 rive at least half their importance from the relation 
 that they bear to the fancies. Perhaps the proper con- 
 clusion would be that in such a case the fancies too 
 have their share of reality. 
 
 " Neeld and I go down to Fairholme to-morrow, 
 Harry," said Iver as they parted. " No chance of see- 
 ing you down there, I suppose ? " 
 
 Neeld thought the question rather l^rutal ; Iver's 
 feelings were not perhaps of the finest. But Harry was 
 apparently unconscious of anything that grated. 
 
 " Really, I don't suppose I shall ever go there again," 
 he answered with a laugh. " Ofif with the old love, you 
 know, Mr Neeld!" 
 
 " Oh, don't say that," protested Southend. 
 
 There was a hint of some meaning in his speech 
 which made Harry turn to him with quick attention. 
 
 " Blent's a mere memory to me," he declared. 
 
 The three elder men were silent, but they seemed 
 to receive what he said with scepticism. 
 
 " Well, that's the only way, isn't it ? " he asked. 
 
 " Just at present, I suppose," Southend said to him 
 in a low voice, as he shook hands. 
 
 These few words, with the subdued hint they carried, 
 reinforced the strength of the visions. Harry was 
 rather full of his own will and proud of his own powers 
 just now — perhaps with some little excuse. But he 
 
 [290]
 
 The Persistence of Blent 
 
 began, thanks to the bearing of these men and to the 
 obstinate thoughts of his own mind, to feel, still dimly, 
 that it was a difficult thing to forget and to get rid of 
 the whole of a life, to make an entirely fresh start, to be 
 quite a different man. Unsuspected chains revealed 
 themselves with each new motion toward liberty. Ab- 
 solute detachment had been his ideal. He awoke with 
 a start to the fact that he was still, in the main, living 
 with and moving among people who smacked strong 
 of Blent, who had known him as Tristram of Blent, 
 whose lives had crossed his because he was Addie 
 yristram's son. That was true of even his new ac- 
 quaintance Lady Evenswood — truer still of Neeld, of 
 Southend, aye, of Sloyd and the Major — most true of 
 riis cousin Cecily. This interdependence of its periods 
 is what welds life into a whole ; even able and wilful 
 young men have, for good and evil, to reckon with it. 
 Otherwise morality would be in a bad case, and even 
 logic rather at sea. The disadvantage is that the diffi- 
 culties in the way of heroic or dramatic condwct are ma- 
 terially increased. 
 
 Yes, he was not to escape, not to forget. That day 
 one scene more awaited him which rose out of Blent 
 and belonged to Blent. The Imp made an appointment 
 by telegram, and the Imp came. Harry could no longer 
 regard his bachelor-chambers as any barrier against 
 the incursions of excited young women. Anything 
 that concerned the Tristrams seemed naturally anti- 
 pathetic to conventions. He surrendered and let Mina 
 in ; that he wanted to see her — her for want of a better 
 — was not recognized by him. She was in a great 
 temper, and he was soon inclined to regret his acces- 
 sibility. Still he endured ; for it was an absolutely final 
 interview, she said. She had just come to tell him 
 what she thought of him — and there was an end of it. 
 Then she was going back to Merrion and she hoped 
 
 [291]
 
 T R I s T R A M of Blent 
 
 Cecily was coming with her. He — Harry — would not 
 be there anyhow ! 
 
 " Certainly not," he agreed. " But what's the mat- 
 ter, Madame Zabriska ? You don't complain that I 
 didn't accept — that I couldn't fall in with my cousin's 
 peculiar ideas ? " 
 
 " Oh, you can't get out of it like that ! You know 
 that isn't the point." 
 
 " What in the world is then ? " cried Harry. 
 " There's nothing else the matter, is there ? " 
 
 Mina could hardly sit still for rage ; she was on 
 pins. 
 
 " Nothing else ? " She gathered herself together for 
 the attack. " What did you take her to dinner and to 
 the theatre for ? What did you bring her home for ? " 
 
 " I wanted to be friendly. I wanted to soften what I 
 had to say." 
 
 " To soften it ! Not you ! Shall I tell you what you 
 wanted, Mr Tristram? Sometimes men seem to know 
 so little about themselves ! " 
 
 " If you'll philosophize on the subject of men — about 
 which you know a lot, of course — I'll listen with 
 pleasure." 
 
 " It's the horrible selfishness of the thing. Why 
 didn't you send her away directly ? Oh, no, you kept 
 her, you made yourself pleasant, you made her think 
 vou liked her " 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " You never thought of anything but yourself all the 
 way through. You were lecturing her ? Oh, no ! You 
 were posing and posturing. Being very fine and very 
 heroic ! And then at the end you turned round and — 
 and as good as struck her in the face. Oh, I hope 
 she'll never speak to you again ! " 
 
 " Did she send you to say this ? " 
 
 " Of course not." 
 
 [292]
 
 The Persistence of Blent 
 
 " Yes, of course not ! You're right there. If it had 
 happened to be in any way your business " 
 
 " Ah ! " cried the Imp triumphantly. " You've no 
 answer, so you turn round and abuse me ! But I 
 don't care. I meant to tell you what I thought of you, 
 and I've done it." 
 
 " A post-card would have done it as well," Harry 
 suggested. 
 
 " But you've gone too far, oh yes, you have. If you 
 ever change your mind " 
 
 " What about ? Oh, don't talk nonsense, Madame 
 Zabriska." 
 
 " It's not nonsense. You behaved even worse than 
 I think if you're not at least half in love with her." 
 
 Harry threw a quick glance at her. 
 
 " That would be very unlucky for me," he remarked. 
 
 " V^ery — now," said the Imp with every appearance 
 of delight. 
 
 " London will be dull without you, Madame 
 Zabriska." 
 
 '* I'm not going to take any more trouble about you, 
 anyhow." 
 
 He rose and walked over to her. 
 
 " In the end," he said more seriously, " what's your 
 complaint against me ? " 
 
 " You've made Cecily terribly unhappy." 
 
 " I couldn't help it. She — she did an impossible 
 thing." 
 
 " After which you made her spend the evening with 
 you ! Even a Tristram must have had a reason for 
 that." 
 
 " I've told you. I felt friendly and I wanted her to be 
 friendly. And I like her. The whole thing's a ludi- 
 crous trifle." He paused a moment and added : " I'm 
 sorry if she's distressed." 
 
 " You've marie cvcrvthing impossible — that's all." 
 
 L-^93J
 
 Tristram (?/" Blent 
 
 " I don't understand. It so happens that to-day all 
 sorts of things have begun to seem possible to me. 
 Perhaps you've seen your uncle ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have, — and — and it would have been splen- 
 did if you hadn't treated her as you did." 
 
 " You hint at something I know nothing about." 
 He was growing angry again. '' I really believe I could 
 manage my own affairs." He returned to his pet 
 grievance. 
 
 " You don't understand ? Well, you will soon." She 
 grew cooler as her mischievous pleasure in puzzling 
 him overcame her wrath. " You'll know what you've 
 done soon." 
 
 " Shall I ? How shall I find it out ? " 
 
 " You'll be sorry when — when a certain thing 
 happens." 
 
 He threw himself into a chair with a peevish laugh. 
 
 " I confess your riddles rather bore me. Is there any 
 answer to this one? " 
 
 " Yes, very soon. I've been to see Lady Evens- 
 wood." 
 
 " She knows the answer, does she? " 
 
 " Perhaps." Her animation suddenly left her. " But 
 I suppose it's all no use now," she said dolefully. 
 
 They sat silent for a minute or two, Harry seeming 
 to fall into a fit of abstraction. 
 
 " What did you mean by saying I oughtn't to have 
 taken her to dinner and so on ? " he asked, as Mina 
 rose to go. 
 
 She shook her head. " I've nothing more to say," 
 she declared. 
 
 " And you say I'm half in love with her ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do," she snapped viciously as she turned 
 toward the door. But she looked back at him before 
 she went out. 
 
 " As far as that goes," he said slowly, " I'm not sure 
 
 I294]
 
 The Persistence of Blent 
 
 you're wrong, Madame Zabriska. But I could never 
 marry her." 
 
 The Imp launched a prophecy, confidently, triumph- 
 antly, maliciously. 
 
 " Before very long she'll be the one to say that, and 
 vou've got yourself to thank for it too ! Good-by ! " 
 
 She was gone. Harry sat down and slowly filled and 
 lit his pipe. It was probably all nonsense ; but again he 
 recollected Cecily's words : " If ever the time comes, I 
 shall remember ! " 
 
 Whatever might be the state of his feelings toward 
 her, or of hers toward him, a satisfactory outcome 
 seemed impossible. And somehow this notion had the 
 effect of spoiling the success of the day for Harry 
 Tristram ; so that among the Imp's whirling words 
 there was perhaps a grain or two of wisdom. At least 
 liis talk with her did not make Harry's visions less con- 
 stant or less intense. 
 
 [295]
 
 XXII 
 
 An Insult to the Blood 
 
 IT could not be denied that Blinkhampton was 
 among the things which arose out of Blent. To 
 acknowledge even so much Harry felt to be a slur 
 on his independence, on the new sense of being able 
 to do things for himself in which his pride, robbed of 
 its old opportunities, was taking refuge and finding 
 consolation. It was thanks to himself anyhow that it 
 had so arisen, for Iver was not the man to mingle busi- 
 ness and sentiment. Harrv snatched this comfort, and 
 threw his energies into the work, both as a trial of his 
 powers and as a safeguard against his thoughts. He 
 went down to the place and stayed a week. The result 
 of his visit was a report which Iver showed to South- 
 end with a very significant nod ; even the mistakes in 
 it, themselves inevitable from want of experience, were 
 the errors of a large mind. The touch of dogmatism 
 did not displease a man who valued self-confidence 
 above all other qualities. 
 
 " The lad will do ; he'll make his way," said Iver. 
 
 Southend smiled. Lads who are equal to making 
 their own way may go very far if they are given such a 
 start as he had in contemplation for Harry. But would 
 things go right ? Southend had received an incoherent 
 but decidedly despairing letter from Mina Zabriska. 
 He put it in the fire, saying nothing to Lady Evens- 
 wood, and nothing, of course, to Mr Disney. In the 
 end there was perhaps no absolutely necessary connec- 
 tion between the two parts of the scheme — that which 
 concerned the lady, and that which depended on the 
 
 [296]
 
 An Insuli" to the Blood 
 
 Minister. Yet the first would make the second so 
 much more easy ! 
 
 Mr Disney had given no sign yet. There was a crisis 
 somewhere abroad, and a colleague understood to be 
 self-opinionated ; there was a crisis in the Church, and 
 a bishopric vacant. Lady Evenswood was of opinion 
 that the least attempt to hurry Robert would be fatal. 
 There were, after all, limits to the importance of Harry 
 Tristram's case, and Robert was likely, if worried, to 
 state the fact with his own merciless vigor, and with 
 that to say good-by to the whole affair. The only 
 person seriously angry at the Prime Minister's 
 " dawdling," was Mina Zabriska ; and she had enjoyed 
 no chance of telling him so. To make such an oppor- 
 tunity for her was too hazardous an experiment ; it 
 might have turned out well — one could never tell with 
 Robert — but on the whole it was not to be risked. 
 
 What Lady Evenswood would not venture, fortune 
 dared. Mina had been seeing sights — it was August 
 now, a suitable month for the task — and one evening, 
 about half-past six, she landed her weary bones on a 
 seat in St James's Park for a few moments' rest before 
 she faced the Underground. The place was very empty, 
 the few people there lay for the most part asleep — 
 workmen with the day's labor done. Presently she 
 saw two men walking slowly toward her from the di- 
 rection of Westminster. One was tall and slight, hand- 
 some and distinguished in appearance ; in the other 
 she recognized the rugged awkward man whom she 
 had met at Lady Evenswood's. He was talking hard, 
 hitting his fist into the palm of his other hand some- 
 times. The handsome man listened with deference, 
 ])ut frowned and seemed troubled. Suddenly the pair 
 stopped. 
 
 " I must get back to the House," she heard the hand- 
 some man say. 
 
 [297]
 
 Tristram of V) l e n t 
 
 " Well, think it over. Try to see it in that light," said 
 Disney, holding out his hand. The other took it, and 
 then turned away. The episode would have been worth 
 a good paragraph and a dozen conjectures to a re- 
 porter ; the handsome man was the self-opinionated 
 colleague, and the words Mina had heard, were they 
 not clear proof of dissensions in the Cabinet ? 
 
 Disney stood stock-still on the path, not looking after 
 his recalcitrant colleague, but down on the ground ; his 
 thoughts made him unconscious of things external. 
 Mina glowed with excitement. He was not an 
 awkward man to her ; he was a great and surprising 
 fact, a wonderful institution, the more wonderful be- 
 cause (to look at him) he might have been a superior 
 mechanic who had dropped sixpence and was scanning 
 the ground for it. She was really appalled, but her 
 old instinct and habit of interference, of not letting 
 things go by her without laying at least a finger on 
 them, worked in her too. How long would he stand 
 there motionless ? As if the ground could tell him 
 anything! Yet she was not impatient of his stillness. 
 It was good to sit and watch him. 
 
 An artisan swung by, his tools over his back. Mina 
 saw the suddenly awakened attention with which his 
 head turned to Disney. He slackened pace a moment, 
 and then, after an apparent hesitation, lifted his cap. 
 "'"here was no sign that Disney saw him, save that he 
 touched his hat in almost vmconscious acknowledg- 
 ment. The artisan went by, but stopped, turned to look 
 again, and exchanged an amused smile with Mina. He 
 glanced round twice again before he was out of sight. 
 Mina sighed in enjoyment. 
 
 With a quick jerk of his head Disney began to walk 
 on slowly. For an instant Mina did not know what she 
 would do ; the fear and the attraction struggled. Then 
 she jumped up and walked toward him- Her manner 
 
 [298]
 
 An Insult to the Blood 
 
 tried to assert that she had not noticed him. She was 
 almost by him. She gave a cough. He looked up. 
 Would he know her ? Would he remember asking — ■ 
 no, directing — my lord his secretary to write to her, 
 and had he read what she wrote ? He was looking at 
 her. She dared a hurried little bow. He came to a 
 stand-still again. 
 
 " Yes, yes ? " he said questioningly. 
 
 " Madame Zabriska, Mr Disney.'" 
 
 " Oh, yes." His voice sounded a little disappointed. 
 " I met you at ? " 
 
 " At Lady Evenswood's, Mr Disney." Taking 
 courage she added, " I sent what you wanted ? " 
 
 " What I wanted ? " 
 
 " Yes. What you wanted me to write, about — about 
 the Tristrams." 
 
 " Yes." The voice sounded now as if he had placed 
 her. He smiled a little. " I remember it all now. I 
 read it the other morning." He nodded at her, as if 
 that finished the matter. But Mina did not move. 
 " I'm busy just now," he added, "but — W>11, how's 
 your side of the affair going on, Madame Zabriska ? 
 I've heard nothing from my cousin about that." 
 
 " It's just wonderful to see you like this ! " the Imp 
 blurted out. 
 
 That amused him ; she saw the twinkle in his eye. 
 
 " Never mind me. Tell me about the Tristram 
 
 cousins." 
 
 " Oh, you are thinking of it then ? " 
 
 " I never tell what I'm thinking about. That's the 
 only reason people think me clever. The cousins ? " 
 
 " Oh, that's all dreadful. At least I believe they are 
 —they would be — in love; but — but — Mr Tristram's 
 so difficult, so obstinate, so proud. I don't suppose you 
 understand " 
 
 " You're the second person who's told me I can't 
 
 [299]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 understand, in the last half-hour." He was smiling 
 now, as he coupled Mina and the handsome recalcitrant 
 colleague in his protest. " I'm not sure of it." 
 
 " And she's been silly, and he's been horrid, and just 
 now— well, it's all as bad as can be, Mr Disney." 
 
 " Is it ? You must get it better than that, you know, 
 before I can do anything. Good-night." 
 
 ^1 Oh, stop, do stop ! Do say what you mean ! " 
 
 " I shan't do anything of the kind. You may tell 
 Lady Evens wood what I've said and she'll tell you what 
 I mean." 
 
 " Oh, but please " 
 
 " If you stop me any longer, I shall send you to the 
 Tower. Tell Lady Evenswood and Southend. If I 
 
 didn't do my business better than you do yours ! " 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders with a good-natured rude- 
 ness. "Good-night," he said. again, and this time Mina 
 dared not stop him. Twenty yards further on he halted 
 once more of his own accord and fell into thought. 
 Mina watched him till he moved on again, slowly mak- 
 ing his w-ay across the Mall and toward St James's 
 Street. A great thing had happened to her — she felt 
 that ; and she had news too that she was to tell to 
 Southend and Lady Evenswood. There was consider- 
 able unsettlement in the Imp's mind that night. 
 
 The next day found her at Lady Evenswood's. The 
 old lady and Southend (who had been summoned on 
 Mina's command — certainly Mina was getting up in 
 the world) understood perfectly. They nodded wise 
 heads. 
 
 " I was always inclined to think that Robert would 
 take that view." 
 
 " He fears that the Bearsdale case won't carry him 
 all the way. Depend upon it, that's what he feels." 
 
 " Well, there was the doubt there, you see." 
 
 Mina was rather tired of the doubt in the Bearsdale 
 
 [300]
 
 An Insult to the Blood 
 
 case. It was always cropping up and being mentioned 
 as though it were something exceedingly meritori- 
 ous. 
 
 " And in poor Addie's case of course there — well, 
 there wasn't," proceeded Lady Evenswood with a sigh. 
 " So Robert feels that it might be thought " 
 
 " The people with consciences would be at him, I 
 suppose," said Southend scornfully. 
 
 " But if the marriage came off " 
 
 " Oh, I see ! " cried the Imp. 
 
 " Then he would feel able to act. It would look 
 merely like putting things back as they were, you see, 
 Mina.'' 
 
 " Do you think he means the viscounty ? " asked 
 Southend. 
 
 " It would be so much more convenient. And they 
 could have had an earldom once before if they'd liked." 
 
 " Oh, twice," corrected Southend confidently. 
 
 " I know it's said, but I don't believe it. You mean 
 in 1816 ?" 
 
 " Yes. Everybody knows that they could have had 
 it from Mr Pitt." 
 
 " Well, George. I don't believe about 1^16. At least 
 my father heard Lord Liverpool say " 
 
 " Oh, dear me ! " murmured the Imp. This his- 
 torical inquiry was neither comprehensible nor interest- 
 ing. But they discussed it eagerly for some minutes 
 before agreeing that, wherever the truth lay, a vis- 
 county could not be considered out of the way for the 
 Tristrams — legitimate and proper Tristrams, be it 
 understood. 
 
 " And that's where the match would be of decisive 
 value," Lady Evenswood concluded. 
 
 " Disney said as much evidently. So you under- 
 stood, Madame Zabriska ? " 
 
 " I suppose so. I've told you what he said." 
 
 [301]
 
 Tristram <?/^ Blent 
 
 " He could take Blentmouth, you know. It's all very 
 simple." 
 
 " Well, I'm not sure that our friend Iver isn't keeping 
 that for himself," smiled Southend. 
 
 " Oh, he can be Lord Bricks and Putty," she sug- 
 gested, laughing. But there seemed in her words a 
 deplorable hint of scorn for that process by which the 
 vitality (not to say the solvency) of the British aris- 
 tocracy is notoriously maintained. " Blentmouth 
 would do very well for Harry Tristram." 
 
 " Well then, what's to be done ? " asked Southend. 
 
 " We must give him a hint, George." 
 
 " Have we enough to go upon ? Suppose Disney 
 turned round and " 
 
 " Robert won't do that. Besides, we needn't pledge 
 anything. We can just put the case." She smiled 
 thoughtfully. " I'm still not quite sure how Mr Tris- 
 tram will take it, you know." 
 
 " How he'll take it ? He'll jump at it, of course." 
 
 " The girl or the title, George ? " 
 
 " Well, both together. Won't he, Madame 
 Zabriska ? " 
 
 Mina thought great things of the girl, and even 
 greater, if vaguer, of the title. 
 
 " I should just think so," she replied complacently. 
 There was a limit to the perversity even of the Tris- 
 trams. 
 
 " We mustn't put it too baldly," observed Southend, 
 dangling his eyeglass. 
 
 " Oh, he'll think more of the thing itself than of how 
 we put it," Lady Evenswood declared. 
 
 From her knowledge of Harry, the Imp was exactly 
 of that opinion. But Southend was for diplomacy ; 
 indeed what pleasure is there in manoeuvring schemes 
 if they are not to be conducted with delicacy ? A 
 policy that can be defined on a postage stamp has no 
 
 I302]
 
 An Insult to the Blood 
 
 attraction for ingenious minds, although it is usually 
 the most effective with a nation. 
 
 Harry Tristram returned from Blinkhampton in a 
 state of intellectual satisfaction marred by a sense of 
 emotional emptiness. He had been very active, very 
 energetic, very successful. He had new and cogent 
 evidence of his power, not merely to start but to go 
 ahead on his own account. This Avas the good side. But 
 he discovered and tried to rebuke in himself a feeling 
 that he had so far wasted the time in that he had seen 
 nobody and nothing beautiful. Men of affairs had no 
 concern with a feeling like that. Would Tver have it, 
 or would Mr Disney ? Surely not ! It would be a 
 positive inconvenience to them, or at best a worthless 
 asset. He traced it back to Blent, to that influence 
 which he had almost brought himself to call malign be- 
 cause it seemed in some subtle way enervating, a thing 
 that sought to clog his steps and hung about those 
 feet which had need to be so alert and nimble. Yet 
 the old life at Blent would not have served by itself 
 now. Was he to turn out so exacting that he must have 
 both Hves before he, or what was in him, could cry 
 " Content " ? A man will sometimes be alarmed when 
 he realizes what he wants — a woman often. 
 
 So he came, in obedience to Lady Evenswood's 
 summons, very confident but rather sombre. When he 
 arrived, a woman was there whom he did not know. 
 She exhaled fashion and the air of being exactly the 
 right thing. She was young — several years short of 
 forty — and very handsome. Her manner was quiet and 
 well-dowered with repressed humor. He was intro- 
 duced to Lady Flora Disney, and found himself re- 
 garded with unmistakable interest and lurking amuse- 
 ment. It was no effort to remember that Mr Disney 
 had married a daughter of Lord Bewdley's. That was 
 enough ; just as he knew all about her, she would know 
 
 [303]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 all about him ; they were both of the pale in a sense 
 that their hostess was, but Lord Southend — well, 
 hardly was — and (absurdly enough) Mr Disney himself 
 not at all. This again was in patent incongruity with 
 Blinkhampton and smelt wofully strong of Blent. 
 Lady Evenswood encouraged Harry to converse with 
 the visitor. 
 
 " We're a little quieter," she was saying. " The crisis 
 is dormant, and the bishop's made, and Lord Hove has 
 gone to consult the Duke of Dexminster — which means 
 a fortnight's delay anyhow, and probably being told to 
 do nothing in the end. So I sometimes see Robert at 
 dinner." 
 
 " And he tells you things, and you're indiscreet 
 about them ! " said Lady Evenswood rebukingly. 
 
 " I believe Robert considers me a sort of ante-room 
 to publicity. And it's so much easier to disown a wife 
 than a journalist, isn't it, Mr Tristram ? " 
 
 " Naturally. The Press have to pretend to believe 
 one another," he said, smiling. 
 
 " That's the corner-stone," Southend agreed. 
 
 " Great is Diana of the Ephesians ! " pursued Lady 
 Flora. " But Diana was never a wife, if I re- 
 member." 
 
 " Though how they do it, my dear," marvelled Lady 
 Evenswood, " is what I don't understand." 
 
 " I know nothing about them," Lady Flora declared. 
 " And they know nothing about me. They stop at my 
 gowns, you know, and even then they always confuse 
 me with Gertrude Melrose." 
 
 " I hope that stops at the gown too ? " observed 
 Southend. 
 
 " The hair does it, I think. She buys hers at the 
 same shop as I — Now what do I do, Mr Tristram ? " 
 You, Lady Flora ? You know the shop. Is that 
 
 enough ? 
 
 [304]
 
 An Insult to the Blood 
 
 " Yes, or — well, no. I supplement there. I declare 
 I won't wait any longer for Robert." 
 
 " He won't come now," said Lady Evenswood. " Is 
 the bishop nice, my dear ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, quite plump and gaitery ! Good-by, dear 
 Cousin Sylvia. I wish you'd come and see me, Mr 
 Tristram." 
 
 Harry, making his little bow, declared that he would 
 be delighted. 
 
 " I like to see young men sometimes," observed the 
 lady, retreating. 
 
 " The new style," Lady Evenswood summ_ed up, as 
 the door closed. " And — well, I suppose Robert likes 
 it." 
 
 " Dissiinilia dissiuiilibns," shrugged Southend, fix- 
 ing his glasses. 
 
 " It's the only concession to appearances he ever 
 made," sighed Ladv Evenswood. 
 
 '^ She's a lady, though." 
 
 " Oh, yes. That's what makes it so funny. If she 
 weren't " 
 
 " Yes, it would all be natural enough." 
 
 " But we've been wasting your time, Mr Tristram." 
 
 " Never less wasted since I was born," protested 
 Harry, who had both enjoyed and learnt. 
 
 " No, really I think not," she agreed, smiling. "Plora 
 has her power." 
 
 The remark grated on him ; he wanted nothing of 
 I'lora and her power ; it was indeed rather an un- 
 fortunate introduction to the business of the afternoon ; 
 it pointed Harry's quills a little. Lady Evenswood, 
 with a quick perception, tried to retrieve the obser- 
 vation. 
 
 " But she likes people who are independent best," 
 she went on. " So does Robert, if it comes to that. 
 Indeed he never does a job for anyone." 
 
 [305]
 
 Tristram <?/' Blent 
 
 " Carries tliat too far in my opinion," commented 
 Soutliend. The moment for diplomacy approached. 
 
 But when it came to the point, Lady Evenswood 
 suavely took the task out of his hands. Her instinct 
 told her that she could do it best ; he soon came to 
 agree. She had that delicacy which he desired but 
 lacked ; she could claim silence when he must have 
 suffered interruption ; she could excuse her interfer- 
 ence on the gi'ound of old friendship ; she could plead 
 an interest which might seem impertinent in him. 
 Above all, she could be elusively lucid and make her- 
 self understood without any bluntness of statement. 
 
 " If it could be so managed that the whole miserable 
 accident should be blotted out and forgotten ! " she ex- 
 claimed, as though she implored a personal favor. 
 
 " How can that be ? " asked Harry. " I was in, and 
 I am out, Lady Evenswood." 
 
 " You're out, and your cousin's in, yes." Harry's 
 eyes noted the words and dwelt on her face. " She 
 can't be happy in that state of affairs either." 
 
 " Perhaps not," he admitted. " P^acts are facts, 
 though." 
 
 " There are ways — ways of preventing that," South- 
 end interposed, murmuring vaguely. 
 
 " I don't know how you'll feel about it, but we all 
 think you ought to consider other things besides your 
 personal preferences. Might I tell Mr Disney — no, one 
 moment, please ! Our idea, I mean, was that there 
 might be a family arrangement. A moment, please, 
 Mr Tristram ! I don't mean, by which she would lose 
 what she has " 
 
 " But that I should get it ? " 
 
 " Well, yes. Oh, I know your feelings. But they 
 would cease to exist if you came to her on an equality, 
 with what is really and truly your proper position recog- 
 nized and — and " 
 
 [306]
 
 An Insult to the Blood 
 
 " Regularized," Southend supplied with a sharp 
 glance at Harry. 
 
 " I don't understand," Harry declared. " You must 
 tell me what you mean. Is it something that concerns 
 Cecily as well as me ? " 
 
 " Oh, about that we haven't the right even to ask 
 your feelings. That would be simply for you to con- 
 sider. But if anything were to happen " 
 
 " Nothing could." Harry restrained himself no 
 longer. " There can be no question of it." 
 
 " I knew you'd feel like that. Just because you feel 
 like that, I want to make the other suggestion to you. 
 I'm not speaking idly. I have my warrant, Mr Tris- 
 tram. If " She was at a loss for a moment. " If 
 
 you ever went back to Blent," she continued, not satis- 
 tied, but driven to some form of words, " it isn't inevi- 
 table that you should go as Mr Tristram. There are 
 means of righting such injustices as yours. Wait, 
 please ! It would be felt — and felt in a quarter you can 
 guess — that the master of Blent, which you'd be in 
 fact anyhow, should have that position recognized. 
 Perhaps there would not be the same feeling unless 
 you were still associated with Blent." 
 
 " I don't understand at all." 
 
 She exchanged a despairing glance with Southend ; 
 she could not tell whether or not he was sincere in say- 
 ing that he did not understand. Southend grew weary 
 of the diplomacy which he had advocated ; after all it 
 had turned out to be Lady Evenswood's, not his, which 
 may have had something to do with his change of mood 
 toward it. He took up the task with a brisk direct- 
 ness. 
 
 " It's like this, Harry. You remember that the un- 
 successful claimant in the Bearsdale case got a barony ? 
 That's our precedent. But it's felt not to go quite all 
 the way — because there was a doubt there. (Luckily 
 
 [307]
 
 Tristram ^/VB l e n t 
 
 for Aiina she was not by to hear.) But it is felt that in 
 the event of the two branches of your family being 
 united it would be proper to — to obliterate past — er — 
 incidents. And that could be done by raising you to 
 the peerage, under a new and, as we hope, a superior 
 title. We believe Mr Disney would, under the cir- 
 cumstances I have suggested, be prepared to recom- 
 mend a viscounty, and that there would prove to be 
 no difficulties in the way." The last words had, pre- 
 sumably, reference to the same quarter that Lady 
 Evenswood had once described bv the words, " Some- 
 body Else." 
 
 They watched him as he digested the proposal, at 
 last made to him in a tolerably plain form. " You must 
 give me a moment to follow that out," he said, with a 
 smile. But he had it all clear enough before he would 
 allow them to perceive that he understood. For 
 although his brain made easy work of it, his feelings 
 demanded a pause. He was greatly surprised. He 
 had thought of no such a thing. What dilTerences 
 would it make ? 
 
 Southend was well satisfied with the way in which 
 his overture was received. Lady Evenswood was 
 watching intently. 
 
 " The idea is " said Harry slowly — " I mean — I 
 
 don't quite gather what it is. You talk of my cousin, 
 and then of a viscounty. The two go together, do 
 they ? " 
 
 It was rather an awkward question put as bluntly as 
 that. 
 
 " Well, that did seem to be Mr Disney's view," said 
 Southend. 
 
 '' He was thinking of the family — of the family as a 
 whole. I'm sure you think of that too," urged Lady 
 Evenswood. There would never be a Tristram who 
 did not, she was thinking. Well, except Addie per- 
 
 [308]
 
 An Insult to the Blood 
 
 haps, who really thought of nothing. " Of course as 
 a thing purely personal to you it might be just a little 
 difificult." She meant, and intended Harry to under- 
 stand, that without the marriage the thing could not be 
 done at all. Mina had reported ]Mr Disney faithfully, 
 and Lady Evenswood's knowledge of her cousin 
 Robert was not at fault. " Apart from anything else, 
 there would be the sordid question," she ended, with a 
 smile that became propitiatory against her will ; she 
 had meant it to be merely confidential. 
 
 There was ground for hope ; Harry hesitated — truth 
 will out, even where it impairs the grandeur of men. 
 The suggestion had its attractions ; it touched the 
 spring of the picturesque in him which Blinkhampton 
 had left rusting in idleness. It suggested something in 
 regard to Cecily too — what it was, he did not reason 
 out very clearly at the moment. Anyhow what was 
 proposed would create a new situation and put him in 
 a different position toward her. In brief, he would 
 have something more on his side. 
 
 " Once he was sure the proposal was agreeable to 
 
 you " murmured Lady Evenswood gently. She 
 
 was still very tentative about the matter, and still 
 watchful of Harry. 
 
 But Southend was not cautious or did not read his 
 man so well. To him the battle seemed to be won. 
 He was assured in his manner and decidedly trium- 
 phant as he said : 
 
 " It's a great thing to have screwed Disney up to 
 the viscounty. It does away with all difficulty about 
 the name, you see." 
 
 Harry looked up sharply. Had Mr Disney been 
 " screwed up ? " Who had screwed him up ? — by 
 what warrant ? — on whose commission ? That was 
 enough to make him glower and to bring back some- 
 thing of the old-time look of suspicion to his face. But 
 
 1309]
 
 'l^KisTRAM of Blent 
 
 the greater part of his attention was engrossed by the 
 second half of Southend's ill-advised bit of jubila- 
 tion. 
 
 " The name ? The difficulty about the name ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " If it had been a barony — well, hers would take 
 precedence, of course. With the higher degree yours 
 will come first, and her barony be merged — Viscount 
 Blentmouth, eh, Harry ? " He chuckled with glee. 
 
 " Viscount Blentmouth be hanged ! " cried Harry. 
 He mastered himself with an effort. " I beg your 
 pardon. Lady Evenswood ; and I'm much obliged to 
 you, and to you too, Lord Southend, for — for screwing 
 Mr Disney up. It's not a thing I could or should have 
 done or tried to do for myself."' In spite of his at- 
 tempted calmness his voice grew a little louder. " I 
 want nothing but what's my own. If nothing's my 
 ow^n, well and good — I can wait till I make it some- 
 thing." 
 
 " But, my dear Harry ! " began the discomfited 
 
 Southend. Harry cut him short, breaking again into 
 impetuous speech. 
 
 " There's nothing between my cousin and me. 
 There's no question of marriage and never can be. 
 
 And if there were " He seemed to gather himself 
 
 up for a flight of scorn — " If there were, do you think 
 I'm going to save my own pride by saddling the family 
 with a beastly new viscounty ? " 
 
 His tones rose in indignation on the last sentence, as 
 he looked from one to the other. " Viscount Blent- 
 mouth indeed ! " he growled. 
 
 Southend's hands were out before him in signal of 
 bewildered distress. Lady Evenswood looked at 
 Harry, then, with a quick forward inclination of her 
 body, past him ; and she began to laugh. 
 
 " Thank you very much, ])ut I've been Tristram of 
 
 [310]
 
 An Insult to the Blood 
 
 Blent,"' ended Harry, now in a very fine fume, and feel- 
 ing he had been much insulted. 
 
 Still looking- past him, Lady Evenswood sat laughing 
 quietly. Even on Southend's face came an uneasv 
 smile, as he too looked toward the door. After a mo- 
 ment's furious staring at the two Harry faced round. 
 The door had been softly and noiselessly opened to the 
 extent of a couple of feet. A man stood in the doorway, 
 tugging at a ragged beard and with eyes twinkling 
 under rugged brows. Who was he, and how did 
 he come there? Harry heard Lady Evenswood's 
 laughter ; he heard her murmur to herself with an ac- 
 cent of pleasure, " A beastly new viscounty ! " Then 
 the man in the doorway came a little farther in, saying: 
 
 " That's exactly what I think about it, Mr Tristram. 
 I've heard what you said and I agree with you. There's 
 an end, then, of the beastly new viscounty ! " He 
 looked mockingly at Southend. " I've been screwed 
 up all for nothing, it seems," said he. 
 
 " Why, you're ? " 
 
 " Let me introduce myself, Mr Tristram. I came to 
 look for my wife, and my name is Disney. I intend to 
 keep mine, and I know better than to try to alter yours." 
 
 " I thought it would end like this I " cried Lady 
 Evenswood. 
 
 " Shan't we say that it begins like this ? " asked Mr 
 Disney. His look at Harry was a compliment. 
 
 fSll]
 
 XXIII 
 
 A Decree of Banishment 
 
 f " I ^HE Imp cried — absolutely cried for vexation — 
 I when a curt and sour note from Southend told 
 M her the issue. The blow struck down her ex- 
 citement and her exultation. Away went all joy in her 
 encounter with Mr Disney, all pride in the skill with 
 which she had negotiated with the Prime Minister. 
 The ending- was pitiful — disgusting and pitiful. She 
 poured out her heart's bitterness to Major Duplay, whc^ 
 had come to visit her. 
 
 " I'm tired of the whole thing, and I hate the Tris- 
 trams ! " she declared. 
 
 " It always comes to that in time, Mina, when you 
 mix yourself up in people's affairs." 
 
 " Wasn't it through you that I began to do it ? " 
 
 The Major declined to argue the question — one of 
 some complexity perhaps. 
 
 " Well, I've got plenty to do in London. Let's give 
 up Merrion and take rooms here." 
 
 " Give up Merrion ! " She was startled. But the 
 reasons she assigned were prudential. " I've taken it 
 till October, and I can't afford to. Besides, what's the 
 use of being here in August ? " 
 
 " You won't drop it yet, you see." The reasons did 
 not deceive Duplay. 
 
 " I don't think I ought to desert Cecily. I suppose 
 she'll go back to Blent. Oh, what an exasperating 
 man he is ! " 
 
 " Doesn't look as if the match would come ofif now, 
 does it ? " 
 
 [312]
 
 A Decree of Banishment 
 
 " It's just desperate. The last chance is gone, i 
 don't know what to do.'' 
 
 " Marry him yourself," advised the Major. Though 
 it was an old idea of his, he was not very serious. 
 
 " I'd sooner poison him," said Mina decisively. 
 " What must Mr Disney think of me ? " 
 
 " I shouldn't trouble about that. Do you suppose 
 he thinks much at all, Mina ? " (That is the sort of re- 
 mark which relatives sometimes regard as consolatory. ) 
 " I think Harry Tristram as much of a fool as you do," 
 Duplay added. " If he'd taken it, he could have made 
 a good match anyhow, even if he didn't get Lady 
 Tristram." 
 
 " Cecily's just as bad. She's retired into her shell. 
 You don't know that way of hers — of theirs, I suppose 
 it is, bother them ! She's treating everybody and 
 everything as if they didn't exist." 
 
 " She'll go back to Blent, I suppose 
 
 " Well, she must. Somebody must have it." 
 
 " If it's going begging, call on me," said the Majoi 
 equably. He was in a better humor with the 
 world than he had been for a long while ; his connec- 
 tion with Iver promised well. But Mina sniffed scorn- 
 fully ; she was in no mood for idle jests. 
 
 Cecily had been told about the scheme and its lament 
 able end. Her attitude was one of entire unconcern. 
 What was it to her if Harry were made a viscount, a 
 duke, or the Pope ? What was anything to her ? She 
 was going back to her father at Blent. The only ani- 
 mation she displayed was in resenting the reminder, 
 and indeed denying the fact, that she had ever been 
 other than absolutely happy and contented at Blent. 
 Mina pressed the point, and Cecily then declared tha^ 
 now at any rate her conscience was at rest. She had 
 tried to do what was right — at what sacrifice Mina 
 knew ; the reception of her offer Mina knew. Now 
 
 [3^3] 
 
 "
 
 Tristram ^^/^ Blent 
 
 perhaps Mina could sympathize with her, and could 
 understand the sort of way in which Cousin Harry re- 
 ceived attempts to help him. On this point they drew 
 together again. 
 
 '* You must come back to Merrion, dear," urged 
 Cecily. 
 
 Mina, who never meant to do anything else, embraced 
 her friend and affectionately consented. It is always 
 pleasant to do on entreaty what we might be driven 
 to do unasked. 
 
 Good-by had to be said to Lady Evenswood. That 
 lady was very cheerful about Harry ; she was, hardly 
 with any disguise, an admirer of his conduct, and said 
 that undoubtedly he had made a very favorable im- 
 pression on Robert. She seemed to make little of the 
 desperate condition of affairs as regarded Cecily. She 
 was thinking of Harry's career, and that seemed to her 
 very promising. " Whatever he tries I think he'll suc- 
 ceed in," she said. That was not enough for Mina ; 
 he must try Mina's things — those she had set her heart 
 on — before she could be content. " But you never 
 brought Cecily to see me," Lady Evenswood com- 
 plained. " And I'm just going away now." 
 
 That was it, Mina decided. Lady Evenswood had 
 not seen Cecily. She had approached the Tristram 
 puzzle from one side only, and had perceived but one 
 aspect of it. She did not understand that it was com- 
 plex and double-headed ; it was neither Harry nor 
 Cecily, but Harry and Cecily. Mina had been in that 
 state of mind before Cecily came on the scene ; it was 
 natural now in Lady Evenswood. But it rendered her 
 really useless. It was a shock to find that, all along, in 
 Lady Evenswood's mind Cecily had been a step toward 
 the peerage rather than the peerage the first step 
 toward Cecily. Mina wondered loftily (but silently) 
 how woman could take so sHghting a view of woman. 
 
 [314]
 
 A Decree of Banishment 
 
 " And Flora Disney has quite taken him up," Lady 
 Evenswood pursued. " George tells me he's been to 
 lunch there twice. George is a terrible gossip." 
 
 " What does Lady Flora Disney want with him ? " 
 
 " Well, my dear, are you going to turn round and say 
 you don't understand why he interests women ? " 
 
 " I don't see why he should interest Lady Flora." 
 Mina had already made up her mind that she hated that 
 sort of woman. It was bad enough to have captured 
 Mr Disney ; must the insatiate creature draw into her 
 net Harry Tristram also ? 
 
 " And of course he's flattered. Any young man 
 would be." 
 
 " I don't think he's improved since he left Blent." 
 
 " Country folks always say that about their young 
 men when they come to town," smiled Lady Evens- 
 wood. " He's learning his world, my dear. And he 
 seems very sensible. He hasn't inherited poor Addie's 
 wildness." 
 
 " Yes, he has. But it only comes out now and then. 
 When it does " 
 
 " It won't come out with Flora," Lady Evenswood 
 interrupted reassuringly. " And at any rate, as you 
 may suppose, I'm going to leave him to his own de- 
 vices. Oh, I think he's (|uite right, but 1 don't want to 
 be wrong myself again, that's all." 
 
 But another thing was to happen before Mina went 
 back to the valley of the Blent ; a fearful, delightful 
 thing. An astonishing missive came — a card inviting 
 her to dine with ]\Ir and Lady Flora Disney. She 
 gasped as she read it. Had Lady Flora ever indulged 
 in the same expression of feeling, it would have been 
 when she was asked to send it. Gasping still, Mina 
 telegraphed for her best frock and all the jewelled 
 tokens of affection which survived to testify to Adolf 
 Zabriska's love. It was in itself an infinitely great oc- 
 
 [3'5]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 casion, destined always to loom large in memory ; but 
 it proved to have a bearing on the Tristram problem 
 too. 
 
 For Harry was there. He sat on the hostess's left ; 
 on her other side was handsome Lord Hove, very re- 
 splendent in full dress, starred and ribanded. Several 
 of the men were like that ; there was some function 
 later on, Mina learnt from an easy-mannered youth 
 who sat by her and seemed bored with the party. Dis- 
 ney canie in late, in his usual indifferently fitting morn- 
 ing clothes, snatching an hour from the House, in the 
 strongest contrast to the fair sumptuousness of his wife. 
 He took a vacant chair two places from Mina and nod- 
 ded at her in a friendly way. They were at a round 
 table, and there were only a dozen there. The easy- 
 mannered youth told her all about them, including sev- 
 eral things which it is to be hoped were not true ; he 
 seemed to view them from an altitude of good-humored 
 contempt. Mina discovered afterward that he was a 
 cousin of Lad}^ Flora's, and occupied a position in 
 Messrs Coutts's Bank. He chuckled once, remarking : 
 
 " Flora's talkin' to Tristram all the time, instead of 
 bein' pleasant to Tommy Hove. Fact is, she hates 
 Tommy, and she'd be glad if the Chief would give him 
 the boot. But the Chief doesn't want to, because 
 Tommy's well in at Court and the Chief isn't." 
 
 " Why does Lady Flora hate Lord Hove ? He's 
 very handsome." 
 
 " Think so ? Well, I see so many fellows like that, 
 that Fm beginnin' to hate 'em. Like the ' sweet girl,' 
 don't you know ? I hear the Chief thinks Tristram'll 
 train on." 
 
 " Do what ? " asked Mina absently, looking across at 
 Harry. Harry was quite lively, and deep in con- 
 versation with his hostess. 
 
 " Well, thcv might put him in the House, and so on, 
 
 [316]
 
 A Decree of Banishment 
 
 you know. See that woman next but three ? That's 
 Gertrude Melrose ; spends more on clothes than any 
 woman in London, and she's only got nine hundred a 
 year. Queer ? " He smiled as he consumed an 
 almond. 
 
 " She must get into debt," said Mina, gazing at the 
 clothes of inexplicable origin. 
 
 " Gettin' in isn't the mystery," remarked the youth. 
 " It's the gettin' out, Madame — er — Zabriska." He 
 had taken a swift glance at Mina's card. 
 
 Mina looked round. " Is it in this room they have 
 the Councils ? " she asked. 
 
 " Cabinets ? Don't know. Downstairs somewhere, 
 I believe, anyhow." He smothered a yawn. "Queer 
 thing, that about Tristram, you know. If everything 
 was known, you know, I shouldn't wonder if a lot of 
 other fellows found themselves " 
 
 He was interrupted, fortunately perhaps, in these 
 speculations by a question from his other neighbor. 
 Mina was left alone for some minutes, and set to work 
 to observe the scene. She was tolerably at ease now ; a 
 man was on each side of her, and in the end it was the 
 women of whom she was afraid. There would be a 
 terrible time in the drawing-room, but she determined 
 not to think of that. Harry saw her sitting silent and 
 smiled across at her while he listened to Lady Flora. 
 The smile seemed to come from a great way ofT. The 
 longer she sat there the more that impression grew ; he 
 seemed so much and so naturally a part of the scene and 
 one of the company. She was so emphatically not one 
 of them, save by the merest accident and for an even- 
 ing's span. The sense of difiference and distance 
 troubled her. She thought of Cecily alone at home, 
 and grew more troubled still. She felt absurd too, be- 
 cause she had been trying to help Harry. If that had 
 to be done, she supposed Lady Flora would do it now. 
 
 [3^7]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 The idea was bitter. Where difference of class comes 
 in, women seem more hostile to one another than men 
 are to men ; perhaps this should be considered in re- 
 lation to the franchise question. 
 
 Through the talk of the rest she listened to Harry 
 and Lady Flora. That Harry should hold his own did 
 not surprise her ; it was rather unexpected that he 
 should do it so lightly and so urbanely. Lord Hove 
 tried to intervene once or twice, with no success ; 
 capricious waves of sympathy undulated across to him 
 from Mina. She turned her head by chance, and found 
 Mr Disney silent too, and looking at her. The next 
 moment he spoke to the easy-mannered youth. 
 
 " Well, Theo, what's the world saying and doing ? " 
 " Same as last year. Cousin Robert," answered 
 Theo cheerfully. " Government's a year older, of 
 
 course." 
 
 In an instant Mina was pleased ; she detected an un- 
 expected but pleasant friendship between Mr Disney 
 and the youth. She credited Disney with more human- 
 ity — the humor necessary she knew he had — and liked 
 him even better. 
 
 " The drawing-rooms have kicked us out already, I 
 iuppose ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, rather. But the Bank's not sure." 
 
 " Good ! That's something. Banks against draw- 
 ing-rooms for me, Madame Zabriska." He brought her 
 into the conversation almost with tact ; he must have 
 had a strong wish to make her comfortable. 
 
 " That's right," announced Theo. " I should say 
 you're all right in the country too. Crops pretty good, 
 you know, and the rain's comin' down just nicely." 
 
 " Well, I ordered it," said Mr Disney. 
 
 " Takin' all the credit you can get," observed Theo. 
 " Like the man who carved his name on the knife be- 
 fore he stabbed his mother-in-law." 
 
 [318]
 
 A Decree of Banishment 
 
 " What did he do that for ? " cried Mina. A guffaw 
 from Disney quite amazed her. 
 
 Harry looked across with a surprised air ; he seemed 
 to wonder that she should be enjoying herself. Mina 
 was annoyed, and set herself to be merry ; a glance 
 from Lady Flora converted vexation into rage. She 
 turned back to Theo ; somehow Mr Disney had taught 
 her how to like him — often a valuable lesson, if people 
 would keep their eyes open for it. 
 
 " Everybody else I've met has been horribly afraid of 
 Mr Disney," she said in a half-whisper. 
 
 " Oh, you aren't in a funk of a man who's smacked 
 your head ! " 
 
 That seemed a better paradox than most. Mina 
 nodded approvingly. 
 
 " What does the Bank say about Barililand, Theo ? " 
 called Disney. Lord Hove paused in the act of drink- 
 ing a glass of wine. 
 
 " Well, they're just wonderin' who's goin' to do the 
 kickin'," said Theo. 
 
 " And who's going to take it ? " Disney seemed 
 much amused. Lord Hove had turned a Httle pink. 
 Mina had a vague sense that serious things were being 
 joked about. Harry had turned from his hostess and 
 was listening. 
 
 " That's what it comes to," concluded Theo. 
 
 Di.sney glanced round, smiling grimly. Everybody 
 had become silent. Barililand had produced the ques- 
 tion on which Lord Hove was supposed to be restive. 
 Disney laughed and looked at his wife. She rose 
 from the table. Mr Disney had either learnt what he 
 wanted or had finished amusing himself. Mina did 
 not know which; no more, oddly enough, did Lord 
 Hove. 
 
 Mr Disney was by the door, saying good-by to the 
 ladies ; he would not be coming to the drawing-room. 
 
 [319]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 He stopped Miiia, who went out last, just before his 
 wife. 
 
 " We've done all we could, Madame Zabriska," he 
 said. " We must leave him alone, eh ? " 
 
 " I'm afraid so. You've been very kind, Mr Disney." 
 
 " Better as it is, I fancy. Now then, Flora ! " At 
 this peremptory summons Lady Flora left Theo, by 
 whom she had halted, and followed Mina through the 
 door. 
 
 The dreadful moment had come. It justified Mina's 
 fears, but not in the way she had expected. Two of the 
 women left directly ; the other two went ofif into a 
 corner ; her hostess sat down and talked to her. Lady 
 Flora was not distant and did not make Mina feel an 
 outsider. The fault was the other way ; she was confi- 
 dential — and about Harry. She assumed an intimacy 
 with him equal or more than equal to Mina's own ; she 
 even told Mina things about him ; she said " we " 
 thought him an enormous acquisition, and hoped to 
 see a great deal of him. It was all very kind, and Mina, 
 as a true friend, should have been delighted. As it was, 
 dolor grew upon her. 
 
 " And I suppose the cousin is quite ? " A gentle 
 
 motion of Lady Flora's fan was left to define Cecily 
 more exactly, and proved fully up to the task. 
 
 " She's the most fascinating creature I ever saw," 
 cried Mina. 
 
 " Rescued out of Chelsea, wasn't she ? " smiled Lady 
 Flora. " Poor thing ! One's sorry for her. When her 
 mourning's over we must get her out. I do hope she's 
 something like Mr Tristram ? " 
 
 " I think she's ever so much nicer than Mr Tristram." 
 Mina would have shrunk from stating this upon oath. 
 
 " He interests me enormously, and it's so seldom I 
 like Robert's young men." 
 
 So he was to be Robert's young man too ! The thing 
 
 [320]
 
 A Decree of Banishment 
 
 grew worse and worse. Almost she hated her idol Mr 
 Disney. Personal jealousy, and jealousy for Cecily, 
 blinded her to his merits, much more to the gracious 
 cordiality which his wife was now showing. 
 
 " Yes, I'm sure we shall make something of Harry 
 Tristram." 
 
 " He doesn't like things done for him," Mina de- 
 clared. She meant to show how very well she knew 
 him, and spoke with an air of authority. 
 
 " Oh, of course it won't look like that, Madame 
 Zabriska." 
 
 Now the Imp's efforts had looked like that — just like 
 it. She chafed under conscious inferiority ; Lady Flora 
 had smiled at being thought to need such a reminder. 
 
 " Men never see it unless it's absolutely crammed 
 down their throats," Lady Flora pursued. '' They al- 
 ways think it's all themselves, you know. It would 
 be very clumsy to be found out." 
 
 In perfect innocence she sprinkled pepper on Mina's 
 wound. Able to endure no more, the Imp declared 
 that she must go back to Cecily. 
 
 " Oh, poor girl, I quite forgot her ! You're going 
 back to Blent with her, I suppose ? Do come and see 
 us when you're in town again." Was there or was 
 there not the slightest sigh as she turned away, a 
 sigh that spoke of duty nobly done? Even toward 
 Robert's caprices, even to the oddest people, Lady 
 Flora prided herself on a becoming bearing. And in 
 the end this little Madame Zabriska had rather amused 
 her ; she was funny with her airs of ownership about 
 Harry Tristram. 
 
 Well poor Mina understood ! All that the enemy 
 tiiought was legible to her ; all the misery that keen 
 perceptions can sometimes bring was sure to be hers. 
 She had spent the most notable evening of her life, and 
 she got into her cab a miserable woman. 
 
 [321]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 Theo was on the doorstep. " Escapin'," he confided 
 to her wliile he handed her in. " Worst of these parties 
 generally is that there's nobody amiisin','' he observed 
 as he did her this service. " Aren't you rather glad 
 you haven't got to take on Flora's job, Madame 
 Zabriska ? " 
 
 No, at the moment at least Mina did not rejoice on 
 that account. 
 
 When she reached home, there was nothing to 
 change her mood. She found Cecily in a melancholy so 
 sympathetic as to invite an immediate outpouring of 
 the heart. Cecily was beautiful that evening, in her 
 black frock, with her fair hair, her pale face, and her 
 eyes full of tragedy. She had been writing, it appeared ; 
 ink and paper were on the table. She was very quiet, 
 but, Mina thought, with the stillness that follows a 
 storm. Unasked, the Imp sketched the dinner party, 
 especially Harry's share in it. Her despair was laced 
 with vitriol and she avoided a kind word about any- 
 body. This was blank ingratitude to Mr Disney, and 
 to Theo too ; but our friends can seldom escape from 
 paying for our misfortunes. 
 
 " Those people have got hold of him. We've lost 
 him. That's the end of it," she cried. 
 
 Cecily had nothing to say ; she leant back in a limp 
 forlornness while Mina expatiated on this doleful text. 
 There came a luxury into the Imp's woe as she realized 
 for herself and her auditor the extreme sorrows of the 
 situation ; she forgot entirely that there was not and 
 never had been any reason why Harry should be any- 
 thing in particular to her at least. She observed that of 
 course she was glad for his sake ; this time-honored 
 imselfishness won no assent from Cecily. Lacking the 
 reinforcement of discussion, the stream of Mina's 
 lamentation began to run dry. 
 
 " Oh, it's no use talking," she ended. " There it is ! "
 
 A Decree of Banishment 
 
 " I'm going back to Blent to-morrow," said Cecily 
 suddenly. 
 
 It was no more than Mina had expected. " Yes, we 
 may as well," she assented dismally. 
 
 Cecily rose and began to walk about. Her air caught 
 Mina's attention again ; on this, the evening before she 
 returned to Blent, it had something of that suppressed 
 passion which had marked her manner on the night 
 when she determined to leave it. She came to a stand 
 opposite Mina. 
 
 " I've made up my mind. From this moment, Mina, 
 Blent is mine. Up to now I've held it for Harry. Now 
 it's mine. I shall go back and begin everything there 
 to-morrow." 
 
 Mina felt the tragedy ; the inevitable was being 
 accepted. 
 
 " You see I've been writing? " 
 
 " Yes, Cecily." After all it looked as though the Imp 
 were not to be cheated of her sensation. 
 
 " I've written to Cousin Harry. I've told him what I 
 mean to do. He must think it right ; it's the only 
 thing he's left me to do. But I've told him I can do it 
 only on one condition. He'll have my letter to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " On one condition ? What ? " 
 
 " I said to him that he gave me Blent because I was 
 there, because he saw me there in the middle of it all. 
 That's true. If I'd stayed here, would he ever have 
 told his secret ? Never ! He wouldn't so much as 
 have come to see me ; he'd never have thought of me, 
 he'd have forgotten all about me. It was seeing me 
 there." 
 
 " Well, seeing you, anyhow." 
 
 " Seeing me there — there at Blent," she insisted, now 
 almost angrily. " So he'll understand what I mean by 
 the thing I've asked of him. And he must obey." Her 
 
 [323]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 voice became imperious. *' I've told him that I'm going 
 back, going to stay .there, and hve there, but that he 
 must never, never come there." 
 
 Mina started, her eyes wide-open in surprise at this 
 heroic measure. 
 
 " I must never see him — if I can help it. Anyhow I 
 must never see him at Blent. That's the only way I 
 can endure it." 
 
 " Never see him ! Never have him at Blent ! " Mina 
 was trying to sort out the state of things which would 
 result. It was pretty plain what had happened ; Cecily 
 had felt the need of doing something ; here it was. 
 Mina's sympathies, quick to move, darted out to Harry. 
 " Think what it'll mean to him never to see Blent {" 
 she cried. 
 
 " To him ? Nothing, nothing ! Why, you yourself 
 came home just now saying that we were nothing to 
 him ! Blent's nothing to him now. It's for my own 
 sake that I've said he mustn't come." 
 
 " You've begged him not to come ? " 
 
 " I've told him not to come," said Cecily haughtily. 
 " If it's his, let him take it. If it's mine, I can choose 
 who shall come there. Don't you see, don't you see ? 
 How can I ever cheat myself into thinking it's mine by 
 right, if I see Harry there ? " She paused a moment. 
 " And if you'd thrown yourself at a man's head, and 
 he'd refused you, would you want to have him about ? " 
 
 " N — no," said Mina, but rather hesitatingly ; un- 
 comfortable situations are to some natures better than 
 no situations at all. " No, of course not," she added 
 more confidently, after she had spent a moment in 
 bracing up her sense of what was seemly. 
 
 " So I've ended it, I've ended everything. I posted 
 my letter just before you came in, and he'll get it to- 
 morrow. And now, Mina, I'm going back to Blent." 
 She threw herself into an arm-chair, leaning back in a 
 
 [324]
 
 A Decree of Banishment 
 
 sudden weariness after the excited emotion with which 
 she had declared her resolve. Mina sat on the other 
 side of the table looking at her, and after a moment's 
 looking suddenly began to sob. 
 
 " It's too miserable," she declared in wrathful woe. 
 " Why couldn't he have said nothing about it and just 
 married you ? Oh, I hate it all, because I love you 
 both. I know people think I'm in love with him, but 
 I'm not. It's both of you, it's the whole thing ; and 
 now it never, never can go straight. If he got Blent 
 back now by a miracle, it would be just as bad." 
 
 " Worse," said Cecily, " if you mean that then he 
 might " 
 
 " Yes, worse," moaned Mina. " It's hopeless every 
 way. And I believe he's fond of you." 
 
 A scornful smile was Cecily's only but sufficient 
 answer. 
 
 " And you love him ! " Mina's sorrow made her for- 
 get all fear. She said in this moment what she had 
 never before dared to say. " Oh, of course you do, or 
 you'd never have told him he mustn't come to Blent. 
 But he won't understand that — and it would make no 
 difference if he did, I suppose ! Oh, you Tristrams ! " 
 Again her old despairing cry of revolt and bewilder- 
 ment was wrung from her by the ways of the family 
 with whose fate she had become so concerned. South- 
 end had felt much the same thing over the matter of 
 Harry and the viscounty. " So it all ends, it all ends — 
 and we've got to go back to Blent ! " 
 
 " Yes, I love him," said Cecily. " That evening in 
 the Long Gallery — the evening when he gave me 
 Blent — do you know what I thought ? " She spoke 
 low and quickly, lying back quite still in the attitude 
 that Addie Tristram had once made her owa, " { 
 watched him, and I saw that he had something to say, 
 and yet wouldn't say it. I saw he was struggling. And 
 
 [325]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 1 watched, how I watched ! He was engaged to Janie 
 Iver — he had told me that. But he didn't love her — 
 yes, he told me that too. But there was something else. 
 I saw it. I had come to love him then already — oh, I 
 think as soon as I saw him at Blent. And I waited for 
 it. Did you ever do that, Mina — do you remember ? " 
 
 Mina was silent ; her memories gave her no such 
 thing as that. Her sobs had ceased ; she sat listening- 
 in tense excitement to the history of the scene that she 
 had descried, dim and far ofif, from the terrace of Mer- 
 rion on the hill. 
 
 " I waited, waited. I couldn't believe — Ah, yes, but 
 I did believe. I thought he felt bound in honor and 
 I hoped — yes, I hoped — he would break his word and 
 throw away his honor. I saw it coming, and my heart 
 seemed to burst as I waited for it. You'd know, if it 
 had ever happened to you like that. And at last I saw 
 he would speak — I saw he must speak. He came and 
 stood by me. Suddenly he cried, ' I can't do it.' Then 
 .xiy heart leapt, because I thought he meant he couldn't 
 n:arry Janie Iver. I looked up at him and I suppose I 
 said something. He caught me by the arm. I thought 
 he was going to kiss me, Mina. And then— then he 
 told me that Blent was mine — not himself but Blent — 
 that I was Lady Tristram, and he — Harry Nothing — 
 he said, Harry Nothing-at-all." 
 
 " Oh, if you'd tell him that ! " cried Mina. 
 
 " Tell him ! " She smiled in superb scorn. " I'd die 
 before I'd tell him. I could go and oiler myself to him 
 just because he didn't know. And he'll never know 
 now. Only now you can understand that Blent is — 
 Ah, that it's all bitterness to me ! And you know now 
 why he must never come. Yes, as you say, it all ends 
 now." 
 
 Mina came and knelt down by her, caressing her 
 hand. Cecily shivered a little and moved with a vague 
 air of discomfort. 
 
 [326]
 
 A Decree of Banishment 
 
 '" But -^ believe he cares for you," Mina whispered. 
 
 " He might brive cared for me perhaps. But Blent's 
 between." 
 
 Blent was between. The difficulty seemed insuper- 
 able — at least where you were dealing with Tristrams. 
 Mina could not but acknowledge that. For Harry, 
 having nothing to give, would take nothing. And 
 Cecily, having much, was thereby debarred from giving 
 anything. And if that miracle of which ]\lina had 
 spoken came about, the parts would be exchanged 
 but the position would be no more hopeful. The 
 Tristrams not only brought about difficult situations — 
 as Addie had done here — but by being w'hat they were 
 they insured that the difficulties should not be over- 
 come. Yet at this moment Mina could not cry, " Oh. 
 you Tristrams ! " any more. Her sorrow was too 
 great and Cecily too beautiful. She seemed again to 
 see Addie, and neither she nor anybody else could 
 have been hard to Addie. She covered Cecily's hands 
 with kisses as she knelt by her side. 
 
 " Yes, this is the end."' said Cecily. " Now, Mina, 
 for Blent and her ladyship ! " She gave a bitter little 
 laugh. " And good-by to Cousin Harry ! " 
 
 " Oh, Cecily ! " 
 
 " No, he shall never come to Blent." 
 
 How would Harry take this decree of banishment ? 
 Mina looked up into her friend's eyes, wondering. But 
 (lid not the dinner-party at Mr Disney's answer that? 
 
 [327]
 
 XXIV 
 
 After the End of All 
 
 'Y Dear Cousin — I shall faithfully obey 
 your commands — Yours very truly, H. A. F. 
 
 , Tristram." And below — very formally — 
 The Lady Tristram of Blent." 
 To write it took him no more than a moment — even 
 though he wrote first, " The commands of the Head of 
 the House," and destroyed that, ashamed of the sting- 
 of malice in it. To send it to the post was the work of 
 another moment. The third found him back at his 
 Blinkhampton plans and elevations, Cecily's letter lying 
 neglected on the table by him. After half an hour's 
 work he stopped suddenly, reached for the letter, tore 
 it into small fragments, and flung the scraps into his 
 waste-paper basket. Just about the same time Cecily 
 and Mina were getting into the train to return to 
 Blent. 
 
 This returning to Blent was epidemic — not so strange 
 perhaps, since mid-August was come, and only the 
 people who had to stayed in town. Harry met Duplay 
 over at Blinkhampton ; Duplay was to join his niece 
 at Merrion in about ten days. He ran against Iver in 
 the street ; Iver was off to Fairholme by the afternoon 
 train ; Mr Neeld, he mentioned, was coming to stay 
 with him for a couple of weeks on Friday. Even South- 
 end — whom Harry encountered in Whitehall, very hot 
 and exhausted — cursed London and talked of a run 
 down to Iver's. Blentmouth, Fairholme, Iver's, Mer- 
 rion — they all meant Blent. Cecily had gone, and 
 Mina ; the rest were going there — everybodv except 
 
 [328]
 
 After the End of All 
 
 the man who three months ago had looked to spend his 
 Hfe there as its master. 
 
 And business will grow slack when autumn arrives : 
 it is increasingly difficult for a man to bury hiniself in 
 deeds, or plans, or elevations, or calculations, when 
 everybody writes that he is taking his vacation, and 
 that the matter shall have immediate attention on his 
 return. Harry grew terribly tired of this polite formula. 
 He wanted to build Blinkhampton out of hand, in the 
 months of August and September. The work would 
 have done him good service. He was seeking a 
 narcotic. 
 
 For he was in pain. It came on about a week after 
 he had sent his curt acknowledgment of Cecily's letter, 
 laying hold of him, he told himself, just because he 
 had nothing to do, because everybody was taking his 
 holiday, and Blinkhampton would not get itself 
 bought, and sold, and contracted for, and planned, and 
 laid out, and built. The politicians were at it still, for 
 two more hot, weary, sultry weeks, but they were of 
 little use. Lady Flora had fled to Scotland, Disney 
 was smothered in arrears of work which must be made 
 up before he got a rest. London was full of strange 
 faces and outlandish folk. " I must take a holiday my- 
 self,"' said Harry in a moment of seeming inspiration. 
 Where, where, where? He suffered under the sen- 
 sation of having nowhere whither he would naturally 
 go, no home, no ])lace to which he could return as to 
 his own. He found himself wishing that he had not 
 torn up Cecily's letter ; he remembered its general 
 effect so well that he wanted to read the very words 
 again, in the secret hope that they would modify and 
 soften his memory. His own answer met and destroyed 
 the hope ; he knew that he would have responded to 
 anything friendly, had it been there. 
 
 Yet what did the letter mean ? He interpreted it 
 
 [329]
 
 Tristram /^/^Blent 
 
 as Cecily had declared he would. When he held Blent, 
 he held it in peace of mind, though in violation of 
 law, till one came who reproached him in a living 
 body and with speaking eyes ; faced with that, he could 
 find no comfort in Blent. Cecily violated no law, but 
 she violated nature, the natural right in him. To her 
 then his presence would be intolerable, and she could 
 not find the desperate refuge that he had chosen. Her 
 only remedy was to forbid him the place. Her instinct 
 drove her to that, and the instinct, so well understood 
 by him, so well known, was to him reason enough. 
 She could not feci mistress of Blent while he was 
 there. 
 
 Indeed he had not meant to go. He had told Iver 
 that in perfect good faith. It would have been in bad 
 taste for him to think of going — of going anything like 
 so soon as this. Whence then came his new feeUng 
 of desolation and of hurt ? It was partly that he was 
 forbidden to go. It was hard to realize that he could 
 see Blent now only by another's will or sufferance. 
 It was even more that now it was no question of 
 refraining from going at once, in order to go hereafter 
 with a better grace. He awoke to the idea that he 
 was never to go, and in the same moment to the truth 
 that he had always imagine^ himself going again, that 
 Ijlent had always held a place in his picture of the 
 future, that whatever he was doing or achieving or 
 winning, there it was in the background. Now it was 
 there no more. He could almost say with Mina and 
 with Cecily herself, " This is the end of it." 
 
 What then of the impressions Mina had gathered 
 from Mr Disney's dinner-party ? It can only be said 
 that when people of impressionable natures study 
 others of like temperament they should not generalize 
 from their conduct at parties. In society dinners are 
 eaten in disguise, sometimes intentional, sometimes un- 
 
 [330]
 
 After the End of All 
 
 conscious, but as a rule quite impenetrable. If Harry's 
 had been unconscious, if the mood had played the man, 
 the deception was the more complete. 
 
 He went to see Lady Evenswood one day ; she had 
 sent to express her desire for a talk before she fled to 
 the country. She had much that was pleasant to say, 
 much of the prospects of his success, of his " training- 
 on," as easy-mannered Theo had put it to Mina 
 Zabriska. 
 
 " And if you do, you'll be able to think now that 
 you've done it all ofif your own bat," she ended. 
 
 " You've found out my weaknesses, I see," he 
 laughed. 
 
 " Oh, I doubt if there's any such thing as an absolute 
 strength or an absolute weakness. They're relative. 
 What's an advantage in one thing is a disadvantage in 
 another." 
 
 " I understand," he smiled. " My confounded con- 
 ceit may help me on in the world, but it doesn't make 
 me a grateful friend or a pleasant companion ? " 
 
 " I believe George Southend agrees as far as the 
 grateful friend part of it is concerned. And I'm told 
 Lord Hove does as to the rest. But then it was only 
 Flora Disney herself who said so." 
 
 " And what do you say ? " 
 
 " Oh, pride's tolerable in anybody except a lover," 
 she declared. 
 
 " Well, I've known lovers too humble. I told one 
 so once ; he believed me, went in, and won." 
 
 " You gave him courage, not pride, Mr Tristram." 
 
 " Perhaps that's true. He's very likely got the 
 pride by now." He smiled at his thoughts of Bob 
 Broadley. 
 
 " And you've settled down in the new groove ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 He hesitated a momertt. " Oh, nearly. Possibly 
 
 [331]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 there's still a touch of the ' Desdichado,' about me. 
 His would be the only shield I could carry, you see." 
 
 " Stop ! Well, I forgive you. You're not often bit- 
 ter about that. But you're very bitter about some- 
 thing, Mr Tristram." 
 
 " I want to work, and nobody will in August. You 
 can't get the better of your enemies if they're with 
 their families at Margate or in the Engadine/' 
 
 " Oh, go down and stay at Blent. No, I'm serious. 
 You say you're proud. There's a good way of showing 
 good pride. Go and stay in the very house. If you do 
 that. I shall think well of you — and even better than I 
 think now of the prospects." 
 
 " I've not been invited." 
 
 " Poor girl, she's afraid to invite you ! Write and 
 say you're coming." 
 
 " She'd go away. Yes, she would. She consents to 
 live there only on condition that I never come. She's 
 told me so." 
 
 " I'm too old a woman to know your family ! You 
 upset the wisdom of ages, and I haven't time to learn 
 anything new." 
 
 " I'm not the least surprised. If I were in her place, 
 I should hate to have her there.". 
 
 " Nonsense. In a month or two " 
 
 " If anything's certain, it's that I shall never go to 
 Blent as long as mv cousin owns it." 
 
 '& 
 
 " I call it downright wicked." 
 
 " We share the crime, she and I. She lays down the 
 law, I willingly obey." 
 
 " Willingly '? " 
 
 " My reason is convinced. Maybe I'm a little home- 
 sick. But your month or two will serve the purpose 
 there." 
 
 " There's a great deal more in this than you're telling 
 me, Mr Tristram." 
 
 [332]
 
 After the End of All 
 
 " Put everything you can imagine into it, and the re- 
 sult's the same." 
 
 She sighed and sat for a moment in pensive silence. 
 Harry seemed to ponder too. 
 
 " I'm going to think of nothing but my work," he 
 announced. 
 
 " So many young men in their early twenties suc- 
 ceed in that ! " she murmured mockingly. 
 
 " Don't those who succeed in anything succeed in 
 that ? " 
 
 " Not all, happily — and none would if they were your 
 mother's sons. My dear boy, just open a window in 
 you anywhere — I know you keep them shut when you 
 can — but just open even a chink, and Addic peeps out 
 directly ! Which means great success or great failure, 
 Harry — and other things on the same scale, I fancy. 
 Thank goodness — oh, yes, saving your presence, really 
 thank goodness — I'm not like that myself ! " 
 
 " Shall I prove you wrong ? " 
 
 " I'm safe. I can't live to see it. And you couldn't 
 prove me wrong without opening all the windows." 
 
 " And that I shouldn't do, even to you ? " 
 
 " Do you ever do it to yourself ? " 
 
 " Perhaps not," he laughed. " But once a storm blew 
 them all in. Lady Evenswood, and left me without any 
 screen, and without defences." 
 
 " Have another storm then," she counselled. She 
 laid a hand on his arm. " Go to Blent." 
 
 " As things stand, I can never go to Blent, I can 
 go only to — Blinkhampton." 
 
 " What does little Mina Zabriska say to that ? " 
 
 " Oh, everything that comes into her head, I sup- 
 pose, and very volubly." 
 
 " I like her," said the old lady with emphasis. 
 
 " Is there such a thing as an absolute liking, Lady 
 Evenswood ? What's pleasant at one lime is abomi- 
 
 [333J
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 liable at another. And I've known Madame Zabriska 
 at the other time." 
 
 " You were probably at the other time yourself." 
 " I thought we should agree about the relativity ! " 
 " There may always be a substratum of friendship," 
 she argued. " You'll say it's sometimes very sub ! 
 Ah, well, you're human in the end. You're absolutely 
 forgetting Blent — and you spend your time with an 
 old woman because she can talk to you about it ! Go 
 away and arrange your life, and come back and tell me 
 all about it. And if you're discontented with life, re- 
 member that you too will reach the stage of being just 
 told about it some day." 
 
 Things will come home to a man at last, strive he 
 never so desperately against them — if the things are 
 true and the man ever honest with himself. It was 
 one night, a little while after this conversation, that the 
 truth came to Harry Tristram and found acceptance or 
 at least surrender. His mind had wandered back to 
 that scene in the Long Gallery, and he had fallen to 
 questioning about his own action. There was a new- 
 light on it, and the new light showed him truth. " I 
 must face it ; it's not Blent," he said aloud. If it were 
 Blent, it was now Blent only as a scene, a frame, a 
 background. When he pictured Blent, Cecily was 
 there ; if he thought of her elsewhere, the picture of 
 Blent vanished. He was in love with her then ; and 
 what was the quality that Lady Evenswood had praised 
 in a lover ? Let him cultivate it how he would — and 
 the culture would be difficult — yet it would not serve 
 here. If he went to Blent against Cecily's commands 
 and his own promise, he could meet with nothing but 
 a rebufif. Yes, he was in love ; and he recognized the 
 impasse as fully as Mina herself, although with more 
 self-restraint. But he was glad to know the truth ; it 
 strengthened him, and it freed him from a scorn of 
 
 [334]
 
 After the End of All 
 
 himself with which he had become afflicted. It was 
 intolerable that a man should be love-sick for a house ; 
 it was some solace to find that the house, in order to 
 hold his affections, must hold a woman too. 
 
 " Now I know where I am," said Harry. He knew 
 what he had to meet now ; he thought he knew how he 
 could treat himself. He went down to Blinkhampton 
 the next morning, harried his builder out of a holiday 
 expedition, and got a useful bit of work in hand. It 
 was, he supposed, inevitable that Cecily should journey 
 with him in the spirit to Blinkhampton ; he flattered 
 himself that she got very little chance while he was 
 there. She was the enemy, he declared, with a half- 
 peevish half-humorous smile. It was not altogether 
 without amusement to invent all manner of devices and 
 all sorts of occupations to evade and elude her. He 
 ventured to declare — following the precedents — that 
 she had treated him shamefully. That broke down. 
 Candor insisted once again on his admitting that he 
 himself would have done exactly the same thing. It 
 never occurred to him to regret, even for a moment, that 
 he had not taken her at her word, and had not accepted 
 her ofifcr. That would have been to spoil his dream, not 
 to realize it. He asked perfection or nothing, being still 
 unhealed of that presumptuous way of his, which bade 
 the world go hang if it would not give him exactly what 
 he chose. The Tristram motto was still, " No com- 
 promise ! " 
 
 An unexpected ally came to his assistance. He re- 
 ceived a sudden summons from Mr Disney. He found 
 him at work, rather weary and dishevelled. He let 
 Harry in at once, but kept him waiting while he trans- 
 acted some other business. Here was the place to see 
 him, not in a drawing-room ; his brusque words and 
 quick decisions enabled him to do two men's work. He 
 turned to Harry and said without preface : 
 
 [335]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " We're going to arbitrate this Barililand question, 
 on behalf of the Company, you know, as well as our- 
 selves. Another instance of my weakness ! Lord 
 Murchison's going over for us. He starts in a fort- 
 night. He asked me to recommend him a secretary. 
 Will you go ? " 
 
 Here was help in avoiding Cecily. But what about 
 Blinkhampton ? Harry hesitated a moment. 
 
 " I should like it, but I've contracted certain obliga- 
 tions of a business kind at home," he said. 
 
 " Well, if you're bound, keep your word and do the 
 work. If you find you're not, I should advise you to 
 take this. It's a good beginning. This is Tuesday. 
 Tell me on Saturday. Good-by." He rang a hand-bell 
 on the table, and, as his secretary entered, said, " The 
 Canadian papers, please." 
 
 " I'm very grateful to you, anyhow." 
 
 " That's all right, Tristram. Good-by." 
 
 There was no doubt what would be the practical way 
 of showing gratitude. Harry went out. 
 
 He left Mr Disney's presence determined to accept 
 the ofifer if Iver could spare his services for the time. 
 The determining cause was still Blent, or his cousin 
 at Blent. Blinkhampton was not far enough away ; it 
 rather threw him with people who belonged to the old 
 life than parted him from them. He was weak him- 
 self too ; while the people were at hand, he would seek 
 them, as he had sought Lady Evenswood. At the 
 Arbitration he would be far off, beyond the narrow 
 seas and among folk who, recognizing the peculiarity 
 of his position, would make a point of not mentioning 
 Blent or speaking of anybody connected with it. It 
 was from this point of view that he was inclined tow- 
 ard the offer, and he did not disguise it from him- 
 self ; but for it he would rather have gone on with 
 Blinkhampton, perhaps because he had a free hand
 
 After the End of All 
 
 there, while he could go to the Arbitration only as a 
 subordinate. Blent apart, the offer was valuable to him 
 as a sign of Disney's appreciation rather than on its 
 own account. 
 
 He went home and wrote to Iver. The letter weighed 
 all considerations save the one which really weighed 
 with him ; he put himself fairly in Iver's hands but did 
 not conceal his own wish ; he knew that if Iver were 
 against the idea on solid business grounds, he would 
 not be affected by Harry's personal preference. But 
 the business reasons, when examined, did not seem very 
 serious, and Harry thought that he would get leave to 
 go. He rose from his writing with a long sigh. If he 
 received the answer he expected, he was at the parting 
 of the ways ; and he had chosen the path that led di- 
 rectly and finally away from Blent. 
 
 An evening paper was brought to him. A tremen- 
 dous headline caught his notice. " Resignation of Lord 
 Hove ! He will not arbitrate aliout Barililand. Will 
 the Government break up ? " Probably not, thought 
 Harry ; and it was odd to reflect that, if Lord Hove 
 had got his way, he would have lost his heroic remedy. 
 So great things and small touch and intersect one 
 another. Perliaps Theo (who could now settle that 
 question about the kicking with his friends) would 
 maintain that Flora Disney had talked too much to 
 Harry at dinner, instead of taking all pains to soothe 
 Lord Hove ! 
 
 It was his last struggle ; he had no doubt that he 
 could win, but the fight was very fierce. Impatient of 
 his quiet rooms, he went out into the crowded streets. 
 At first he found himself envying everybody he passed 
 — the cabman on his box, the rough young fellows es- 
 caped from the factory, the man who sold matches and 
 had no cares beyond food and a bed. But presently 
 he forgot them all and walked among shadows. He 
 
 ^337]
 
 Tristram (9/*Blent 
 
 was at Blent in spirit, sometimes with Addie Tristram, 
 sometimes with Cecily. His imagination undid what 
 his hand had done ; he was smiling again at the efforts 
 of Duplay to frighten or to displace him. Thus he 
 would be happy for a moment, till reality came back 
 and a dead dulness settled on his soul. Half afraid of 
 himself, he turned round and made for home again ; 
 he could not be sure of his self-control. But again he 
 mastered that, and again paced the streets, now in a 
 grim resolution to tire mind and body, so that these 
 visions should have nothing to work on and, finding 
 blank unresponsive weariness, should go their ways 
 and leave him in an insensible fatigue. Ever since he 
 disclaimed his inheritance he had been living in a stress 
 of excitement that had given him a fortitude half un- 
 natural ; now this support seemed to fail, and with it 
 went the power to bear. 
 
 The remedy worked well ; at eight o'clock he found 
 himself very tired, ver}^ hungry, unexpectedly com- 
 posed. He turned into a little restaurant to dine. The 
 place was crowded, and rather shamefacedly (as is the 
 national way) he sat down at a small table opposite a 
 girl in a light-blue blouse and a very big hat, who was 
 eating risotto and drinking lager beer. She assumed 
 an air of exaggerated primness and gentility, keep- 
 ing her eyes down toward her plate, and putting very 
 small quantities into her mouth at a time. Glad of dis- 
 traction, Harry watched her with amusement. At last 
 she glanced up stealthily. 
 
 " A line evening," he said, as he started on his chop. 
 
 " Very seasonable," she began in a mincing tone ; 
 but suddenly she broke oft' to exclaim in a voice and 
 accent more natural and spontaneous, " Good gracious, 
 rVe seen you before, haven't I ? " 
 
 " I'm not aware that I ever had the honor," said 
 Harry. 
 
 [338]
 
 ■ After the End of All 
 
 " Well, I know your face, anyhow." She was look- 
 ing at him and searching her memory. " You're not at 
 the halls, are you ? " 
 
 " No, I'm not at the halls." 
 
 " Well, I do know your face — Why, yes. I've seen 
 vour face in the papers. I shall get it in a minute now — 
 don't you tell me." She studied him with deter- 
 mination. Harry ate away in contented amusement. 
 " Yes, you're the man who — why, yes, you're Tris- 
 tram ? " 
 
 " That's right. I'm Tristram." 
 
 " Well, to think of that ! Meeting you ! Well, I 
 shall have something to tell the girls. Why, a friend 
 of mine wrote down to the country, special, for your 
 photo." 
 
 " That must have proved a disappointment, I'm 
 afraid. The romance was better than the hero." 
 
 " You may sav romance ! " she conceded heartily. 
 
 " To be a lord and ! " She leant forward. " I say, 
 
 how do you get your living now ? "' 
 
 " Gone into the building-trade," he answered. 
 
 " You surprise me ! " The observation was evi- 
 dently meant to-be extremely civil. "But there, it 
 isn't so much what your job is as having some job. 
 That's what I say." 
 
 " I wish I always said — and thought — things as sen- 
 sible; " and he took courage to offer her another glass 
 of lager. She accepted with a slight recrudescence of 
 primness ; but her eyes did not leave him now. " I 
 never did ! " he heard her murmur as she raised her 
 glass. " Well, here's luck to you, sir ! (He had been a 
 lord even if he were now a builder). You did the 
 straight thing in the end." 
 
 " What ? " asked Harry, a little startled. 
 
 " Well, some did say as you'd known it all along. 
 Oh, I don't say so ; some did." 
 
 [339]
 
 Tristram (?/ Blent 
 
 Harry began to laugh. " It doesn't matter, does it, 
 if I did the straight thing in the end ? " 
 
 " I'm sure as I shouldn't blame you if you had been 
 a bit tempted. I l:no\v what that is ! Well, sir, I'll sav 
 good-evening." 
 
 " Good-evening, miss, and thank you very much," 
 said Harry, rising as she rose. His manner had its 
 old touch of lordHness. His friends criticised that 
 sometimes ; this young lady evidently approved. 
 
 " You've no cause to thank me," said she, with an 
 admiring Ioo'k. 
 
 " Yes, I have. As it happened, I believe I wanted 
 somebody to remind me that I had done the straight 
 thing in the end, and I'm much obliged to you for doing 
 it." 
 
 " Well, I shall have something to tell the girls ! " she 
 said again in wondering tones, as she nodded to him 
 and turned slowly away. 
 
 Harry was comforted. The stress of his pain was 
 past. He sat on over his simple meal in a leisurely 
 comfortable fashion. He was happy in the fact that 
 his enemy had at least nothing with which she could 
 reproach him, that he had no reason for not holding 
 his head erect before her. And the girl's philosophy 
 had been good. He had a job, and that was the great 
 thing in this world. He felt confident that the struggle 
 was won now, and that it would never have to be fought 
 again in so severe a fashion. His self-respect was in- 
 tact ; if he had been beaten, he would never have for- 
 given himself. 
 
 He regained his rooms. A letter lay waiting for him 
 on the table. He opened it and found that it was from 
 Mina Zabriska. 
 
 " We are back here," she wrote. " I am staying at Blent till 
 my uncle comes down. I must write and say good-by to you. 
 I dare say we shall never meet again, or merely by chance. I 
 
 [340]
 
 After t h e E n d o f A r., l 
 
 am very unhappy about it all, but with two people like Cecily 
 and you nothing else could have happened. I see that now, and 
 I'm not going to try to interfere any more. I shan't ask you to 
 forgive me for interfering, because you've made the result quite 
 enough punishment for anything I did wrong. And now Cecily 
 goes about looking just like you — hard and proud and grim ; 
 and she's begun to move things about and alter arrangements at 
 Blent. That's what brings it home to me most of all. (' And 
 to me,' interposed Harry as he read.) If I was the sort of 
 woman you think me, I should go on writing to you. But I 
 shan't write again. I am going to stay at Merrion through the 
 winter, and since you won't come here, this is the last of me for 
 a long time anyhow. Oh, you Tristrams ! Good-by, 
 
 MiNA Zabriska." 
 
 " Poor little Imp ! " said Harry. " She's a very good 
 sort ; and she seems about right. It's the end of every- 
 thing." He paused and looked round. " Except of 
 these rooms — and my work — and, well, life at large, you 
 know ! " He laughed in the sudden realization of how 
 much was left after there was an end of all — life to be 
 lived, work to be done, enjoyments to be won. He 
 could know this, although he could hardly yet feel it 
 in any very genuine fashion. He could project his 
 mind forward to a future appreciation of what he could 
 not at the moment relish ; and he saw that life would 
 be full and rich with him, even although there were an 
 end of all. " But I don't believe," he said to himself, 
 slowly smiling, " that I should ever have come to under- 
 stand that or to — to fulfil it unless I had — what did the 
 girl say ? — done the straight thing in the end, and 
 come out of Blent. Well, old Blent, good-by ! " He 
 crumpled up Mina's letter, and flung it into the grate. 
 
 The maid-servant opened the door. " Two gentle- 
 iTicn to see you, sir," she said. 
 
 " Oh, say I'm busy " he began. 
 
 " We must see you, please," insisted Mr Jenkinson 
 Neeld, with unusual firmness. He turned to the man 
 with him, saying : " Here is Mr Tristram, Colonel 
 -•:d-e." 
 
 [341] 
 
 'ft^
 
 XXV 
 
 There's the Lady Too ! 
 
 THERE was nothing very remarkable about 
 Colonel Wilmot Edge. He was a slightly 
 built, trim man, but his trimness was not dis- 
 tinctively military. He might have been anything, save 
 that just now the tan on his face witnessed to an out- 
 of-door life. His manner was cold, his method of 
 speech leisurely and methodical. At first sight Harry 
 saw nothing in him to modify the belief in which he 
 had grown up — that the Edges were an unattractive 
 race, unable to appreciate Tristrams, much less worthy 
 to mate with them. He gave the Colonel a chair 
 rather grudgingly, and turned to old Mr Neeld for an 
 explanation of the visit. 
 
 Neeld had fussed himself into a seat already, and had 
 drawn some sheets of paper covered with type-writing 
 from his pocket. He spread them out, smoothed them 
 down, cleared his throat, and answered Harry's look 
 by a glance at Edge. l\Ir Neeld was in a fidget, a fidget 
 of importance and expectancy. 
 
 " You will know," said Edge gravely, " that no or- 
 dinary matter has led me to call on you, Mr Tristram. 
 However little we may be responsible for the past, we 
 have to recognize it. I should not, under ordinary 
 circumstances, have sought your acquaintance. You 
 must consider this interview purely as one of a business 
 kind. I have just returned to England. For two 
 months I have been out of the way of receiving letters 
 or newspapers. I went to the Imperium Club to-night 
 
 [342]
 
 There's the Lady Too! 
 
 — I arrived only this morning — and dined in Neeld's 
 company. As it chanced, we spoke of you, and I learnt 
 what has happened since I left England. I have lost 
 no time in calling on you." 
 
 Neeld was listening and fidgeting with his sheets of 
 paper. The Colonel's preamble excited little interest 
 in Harry. The reaction of his struggle was on him ; he 
 was courteously but not keenly attentive. 
 
 ■' It is not agreeable to me to speak of my brother to 
 you, Mr Tristram. Doubtless we should diflfer if we 
 discussed his character and conduct. It is not neces- 
 sary. 
 
 " Is Sir Randolph Edge concerned in what you have 
 to say to me ? " asked Harry. 
 
 " Yes, I am sorry to say he is. Another person is 
 concerned also." 
 
 " One moment. You are, of course, aware that I no 
 longer represent my family ? Legally I'm not even a 
 member of it. It is possible that you ought to address 
 yourself to Lady Tristram — my cousin — or to her 
 lawyers." 
 
 " I have to speak to you. Is the name of the Com- 
 tesse d'Albreville known to you, Mr Tristram ? " 
 
 " Yes, I've heard my mother speak of meeting her in 
 Paris." 
 
 " That would be when Lady Tristram was residing 
 with my brother ? " 
 
 " My mother was never in Paris after that, I believe. 
 It would be at that time. Colonel Edge." 
 
 " You are aware that later — after he parted from 
 Lady Tristram — my brother went to Russia, where he 
 had business interests ? " 
 
 " I have very good reason to know that." Harry 
 smiled at Mr Neeld, who had apparently got all he could 
 out of his papers, and was sitting quiet and upright in 
 an eager attention. 
 
 [343I
 
 Tristram (9/^ Blent 
 
 " What I am about to say is known, I believe, to 
 myself alone — and to Neeld here, to whom I told it to- 
 night. While my brother was in Russia, he was joined 
 by the Comtesse. She paid him a visit — secretly, I need 
 hardly add. She passed under the name of Madame 
 Valfier, and she resided in the house adjoining Ran- 
 dolph's. Lady Tristram was not, of course, aware of 
 the relations between her and my brother. I will come 
 now to the time of my brother's death. When he fell 
 ill, he had just completed the sale of one of his Russian 
 properties. Lady Tristram did not, I dare say, speak 
 of the Comtesse's character to you ? " 
 
 " I never remember hearing my mother speak of 
 anybody's character," said Harry with a smile. 
 
 " She was a brilliant woman — she died, by the way, 
 two or three years ago — but extravagant and fond of 
 money. She prevailed on my brother to promise her 
 the price of this property as a gift. The sum was con- 
 siderable — about seven thousand pounds." 
 
 Harry nodded. Here seemed to be some possible 
 light on the reasons for the interview. 
 
 "" This money was to be paid — in gold — on a certain 
 day. I speak now from information imparted to me 
 subsequently by the Comtesse herself. It was given 
 under a promise of secrecy which I have kept hith- 
 erto, but now find myself compelled in honesty to 
 break." 
 
 "There can be no question of what is your duty, 
 Edge," Mr Neeld put in. 
 
 " I think none. My brother during his illness dis- 
 cussed the matter with the Comtesse. The money 
 was payable in Petersburg. He could not hope to be 
 well enough to go there. At her suggestion he signed 
 a paper authorizing payment to be made to her or to 
 an agent appointed by her. The money being destmed 
 for her ultimately, this naturally seemed the best ar- 
 
 [344]
 
 There's the Lady Too! 
 
 rangement. She could go and receive the money, or 
 send for it — as a fact she went in person when the time 
 came — and all would be settled." 
 
 " Quite so. And the transaction would not appear 
 on the face of Sir Randolph's accounts or bank-book," 
 Harry suggested. 
 
 " It's possible that weight was given to that consid- 
 eration too, but it is not very material. The Comtesse, 
 then, was in possession of this authority. My brother's 
 illness took a turn for the worse. To be brief, he died 
 before the day came on which the money was to be 
 paid." 
 
 " And she presented the authority all the same ? " 
 asked Harry. " And got the money, did she ? " 
 
 " That is precisely the course she adopted," assented 
 Colonel Edge. 
 
 Harry took a walk up and down the room and re- 
 turned to the hearthrug. 
 
 " I'm very sensible of your kindness in coming here 
 to-day," he said, " and your conduct is that of a man 
 of honor. But at this point I'll stop you, please. I'm 
 aware that prima facie the law would pronounce me 
 to be Sir Randolph's son. That has always been dis- 
 claimed on our side and could easily be disproved on 
 yours. I have nothing to do with Sir Randolph Edge 
 or his property." 
 
 The Colonel listened unmoved. 
 
 " In any case you would have nothing to do with my 
 brother's property," he remarked. " He left a will by 
 which I was constituted sole legatee." 
 
 " Then if she robbed anybody she robbed you ? " 
 
 " Certainly ; and three years later she came and told 
 me so." 
 
 " Then how in the world does it concern me ? " cried 
 Harry impatiently. 
 
 " You put your finger on the spot, Mr Tristram, but 
 
 [345]
 
 Tristram of^ Blent 
 
 you took it off again. You said she presented the au- 
 thority all the same." 
 
 " Yes. The authority would be revoked by his 
 death. At least I suppose there's no question of that ? 
 Did she get at them before they heard of the death ? " 
 
 " This money was payable on the 22nd June — the 
 loth as it's reckoned in Russia — but we needn't trouble 
 about that. As you and Neeld are both aware, on the 
 18th my brother fell into a collapse which was mistaken 
 for death." 
 
 " Yes, the i8th," murmured Neeld, referring to the 
 paper before him, and reading Josiah Cholderton's ac- 
 count of what Madame de Kries had told him at Heidel- 
 berg. 
 
 " From that attack he rallied temporarily, but not 
 until his death had been reported." 
 
 " I am not the man to forget that circumstance," 
 said Harry. 
 
 " The report of his death was, of course, contra- 
 dicted immediately. The doctor attending him saw to 
 that." 
 
 " Naturally ; and I suppose the Comtesse would see 
 to it too." 
 
 " And the only importance that the occurrence of 
 the 18th has for us at present is that, according to the 
 Comtesse's story, it suggested to the doctor the course 
 which she, on his prompting as she declared and cer- 
 tainly with his connivance, afterward adopted. My 
 brother, having rallied from his first collapse, kept up 
 the fight a little while longer. It was, however, plain 
 to the doctor that he could live but a very short time. 
 The Comtesse knew this. My brother was not in a con- 
 dition to transact business and was incapable of secur- 
 ing to her any benefit by testamentary disposition even 
 if he had wished to do so. Her only chance was the 
 money for the property. This she saw her way to se- 
 
 [346]
 
 There's the Lady Too! 
 
 curing with the doctor's help, even although my 
 brothej- should die before it fell due and the authority 
 she held should thereby lose its legal validity." 
 
 " You mean that they determined to carry out a 
 fraud if necessary ? " 
 
 " Precisely. I must remind you that my brother 
 knew nothing of this. He was altogether past under- 
 standing anything about it. I may be very brief now, 
 but I am still anxious that you should fully understand. 
 All that I'm saying to you is beyond question and can 
 be proved at any time by taking evidence on the spot ; 
 it is easily available." 
 
 Harry had sat down by now and was listening in- 
 tently. 
 
 " On the morning of the 22nd," Edge pursued in his 
 level methodical way, " the Comtesse went to the sta- 
 tion escorted by Dr Migratz ; that w^as his name — 
 rather that is his name ; he is still alive. On the way 
 they met the British Vice-Consul, and in reply to in- 
 (juiries from him said that my brother had had another 
 attack but had rallied again. Dr ^Migratz expressed 
 the opinion that he would live another two days, while 
 iNladame Yalfier (the Vice-Consul knew her by that 
 name) was sanguine enough to talk of the possibility 
 of a recovery. She impressed him very much by her 
 courage and hopefulness ; she was, 1 may remark, a 
 handsome and attractive woman. Leaving the Vice- 
 Consul, they reached the station and there parted. 
 Migratz returned immediately to my brother's house 
 and remained there, the case being declared to be so 
 critical as to require unremitting attention. Madame 
 Valfier — the Comtesse — took the train to Petersburg, 
 reached it that evening, presented the authority early 
 next morning, and was back about midnight — that be- 
 ing the 23rd. The next day my brother's death was 
 announced, certified bv Migratz, and duly registered 
 
 ' [347]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 as the law of the place required." He drew a paper 
 from his pocket. " This is a copy of the entry, showing 
 death on the 24th." 
 
 " That document is very familiar to me, Colonel 
 Edge. It gives both styles, doesn't it ? " 
 
 " Yes, both styles, but — Well, you see for yourself. 
 My story is done. With Migratz's connivance — a 
 woman who acted as nurse was squared too, and her 
 evidence is available — the actual date of death was con- 
 cealed, and the Comtesse d'Albreville had time to 
 present her authority and receive the money. After 
 paying her accomplices their price, she left Russia with 
 the bulk of it immediately." 
 
 Harry glanced at Neeld ; the old man's face was full 
 of excitement and his hand trembled as it lay on the 
 leaves of Josiah Cholderton's Journal. 
 
 " My mother was married to my father on the 23rd," 
 said Harry slowly. 
 
 " My brother died on the 22nd," said Wilmot Edge. 
 " He was dead before the Comtesse started for Peters- 
 burg." 
 
 Harry made no comment. He sat still and thought- 
 ful. 
 
 " Of course I was put on the track of the afifair," 
 Edge pursued, " by the disappearance of the money. 
 I had little dif^culty in guessing that there had been 
 something queer, but what it was did not cross my 
 mind for a long while. Even after I had a clew, I found 
 Migratz a tough customer, and for a long time I totally 
 failed to identify Madame Valfier. When, thanks to a 
 series of chances, I did so, it was a shock to me. She 
 was the wife of a man of high position and high repu- 
 tation. She had contrived — she w-as a remarkable 
 woman — to carry out this expedition of hers without 
 rousing any suspicion ; she had returned to her hus- 
 band and children. Finding herself in danger, she took 
 
 [348]
 
 There's the Lady Too ! 
 
 the bold course of throwing herself on my mercy, and 
 sent for me to Paris. It was not my desire to rake up 
 the story, to injure my brother's memory, or to break 
 up the woman's home. I pocketed the loss as far as 
 I was concerned. As for you, I didn't know you were 
 concerned. I had never gone into the details ; I ac- 
 cepted the view which your own conduct, and Lady 
 Tristram's, suggested. I promised silence, guarding 
 myself by a proviso that I must speak if the interests 
 of'third persons were ever affected. Your interests are 
 affected now% and I have spoken, Mr Tristram — or 
 Lord Tristram, as I undoubtedly ought to say." 
 
 Harry turned to Mr Neeld with a smile and pointed 
 at the leaves of the Journal. 
 
 " There was something Cholderton didn't know 
 after all," he said. " A third date — neither the i8th nor 
 the 24th ! Twenty-four hours ! Well, I suppose it's 
 enough ! " 
 
 " It's enough to make all the difference to you," said 
 Neeld. *' It makes the action you took in giving up 
 your position unnecessary and wrong. It restores the 
 state of things which existed " 
 
 " Before you and Mina Zabriska came to Blent — and 
 brought Mr Cholderton ? " He sat smiling a moment. 
 " Forgive me ; I'm very inhospitable," he said, and 
 offered them cigarettes and whiskey. 
 
 Neeld refused ; the Colonel took both. 
 
 " You may imagine with what feelings I heard your 
 story," Edge resumed, " and found that the Com- 
 tesse's fraud was really the entire basis of your action. 
 If I had been in England the thing need never have 
 happened." 
 
 " It has happened," said Harry, " and — and I don't 
 quite know where we are." For the world was all al- 
 tered again, just when the struggle of the evening had 
 seemed to settle it. The memory of the girl in the res- 
 
 [349]
 
 Tristram oJ Blent 
 
 taurant flashed across his mind. What would she — 
 what would she say to this ? 
 
 Colonel Edge was evidently rather a talkative man. 
 He began again, rather as though he were delivering a 
 little set speech. 
 
 " It's perhaps hardly to be expected," he said, " that 
 any degree of intimacy should exist between your 
 family and mine, Lord Tristram, but I venture to hope 
 that the part which it has been my privilege to play to- 
 day may do something to obliterate the memories of 
 the past. We don't perhaps know all the rights of it. 
 I am loyal to my brother, but I knew the late Lady 
 Tristram, and I can appreciate all that her friends 
 valued and prized in her." 
 
 " Very good, Edge, very good," murmured emo- 
 tional old Mr Neeld. " \'ery proper, most proper." 
 
 " And I hope that old quarrels need not be eternal ? " 
 
 " I'm very much in your debt, and I'm sincerely 
 grateful, Colonel Edge. As for the past — There are 
 graves ; let it lie in them." 
 
 " Thank you, Lord Tristram, thank you," and the 
 Colonel gave Harry his hand. 
 
 " Excellent, excellent ! " muttered Mr Neeld as he 
 folded up the leaves of Josiah Cholderton's diary. 
 
 " You can call on me for proofs whenever you wish 
 to proceed. After what has occurred, I presume they 
 will be necessary." 
 
 " Yes, yes — for his seat," assented Neeld. 
 
 " And to satisfy public opinion," added Edge. 
 
 There was a pause. Neeld broke it by saying 
 timidly : 
 
 " And — er — there is, of course, the — the lady. The 
 lady who now holds the title and estates." 
 
 " Of course ! " agreed Edge, with a nod that apolo- 
 gized for forgetfulness. 
 
 Of course there was ! Harry smiled. He had been 
 
 [350]
 
 There's the Lady Too ! 
 
 wondering how long they would take to think of the 
 lady who now held the title and estates. Well, they 
 had come to her at last — after providing for the require- 
 ments of the House of Lords and the demands of pub- 
 lic opinion — after satisfying the girl in the restaurant, 
 in fact. Yes, of course, there was the lady too. 
 
 Though he smiled, he was vexed and s.ufifered a 
 vague disappointment. It is to be wished that things 
 would happen in a manner harmonious with their true 
 nature — the tragic tragically, the comic so that laughter 
 roars out, the melodramatic with the proper limelight 
 eflfects. To do the Tristrams justice, this was generally 
 achieved where they were concerned ; Harry could 
 have relied on his mother and on Cecily ; he could rely 
 on himself if he were given a suitable environment, 
 one that appealed to him and afforded responsive feel- 
 ings. The family was not in the habit of wasting its 
 opportunities for emotion. I'ut who could be emotional 
 now — in face of these two elderly gentlemen ? Neeld's 
 example made such a thing ridiculous. Colonel Edge 
 would obviously consider it unsoldier-like. The chance 
 had been frittered away ; life was at its old game of 
 neglecting its own possibilities. There was nothing 
 but to acquiesce ; fine melodrama had been degraded 
 into a business interview with two elderly and con- 
 scientious gentlemen. The scene in the Long Gallery 
 had at least been different from this ! Harry bowed 
 his head ; he must be thankful for small blessings ; 
 it was something that they had remembered the lady 
 at last. 
 
 At a glance from Edge, Neeld rose to go. 
 
 " Pray wait — wait a minute or two," begged Harry. 
 " I want to think for a minute." 
 
 Neeld sat down again. It is very likely they were as 
 surprised at him as he was childishly vexed with them. 
 For he exhibited perfect calm. Yet perhaps Colonel 
 
 [351]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 Edge, who had given so colorless an account of the 
 Comtesse's wild appeal to him, was well suited. 
 
 " I'm going down to Iver's to-morrow," said old 
 Neeld, tucking the extract from the Journal into his 
 pocket. 
 
 "To Iver's?" After a moment's silence Harry 
 fairly laughed. Edge was surprised, not understanding 
 what a difference the Comtesse's manoeuvre had made 
 there too. He could not be expected to know all the 
 difference it had made to Harry's life, even to the 
 man himself. Two irresponsible ladies — say Addie 
 and — well, Madame Valfier — may indeed make differ- 
 ences. 
 
 " Yes, to Fairholme," continued old Neeld. " We — 
 we may see you there now ? " 
 
 Edge looked up with an interested glance. It had 
 occurred to him that he was turning somebody out as 
 well as putting somebody in. 
 
 " You'll have, of course, to communicate what I have 
 said to — to ? " 
 
 " Oh, we'll say Lady Tristram still," Harry inter- 
 rupted. 
 
 Edge gave a little bow. " I shall be ready to meet 
 her or her advisers at any time," he remarked. " She 
 will, I hope, recognize that no other course was open 
 to me. She must not think that there is any room for 
 doubt." 
 
 Harry's brain was at work now ; he saw himself go- 
 ing to Blent, going to tell Cecily. 
 
 " Possibly," Mr Neeld suggested, " it would be better 
 to intrust a third person with the task of giving her 
 this news ? One of her own sex perhaps ? " He 
 seemed to contemplate a possible fainting-fit, and, re- 
 membering his novels, the necessity of cutting stay- 
 laces, a task better left to women. 
 
 " You're thinking of Mina ? Of Mina Zabriska ? " 
 
 [352]
 
 There's the Lady Too! 
 
 asked Harry, laughing. There again, what a loss ! 
 Why had not Mina heard it at first hand ? She would 
 have known how to treat the thing. 
 
 " She's always taken a great interest in the matter, 
 and — and I understand is very friendly with — with Miss 
 Gainsborough," said Neeld. 
 
 " We shall have to make up our minds what to call 
 ourselves soon," sighed Harry. 
 
 " There can be no doubt at all," Edge put in ; " and 
 if I may venture to suggest, I should say that the 
 sooner the necessity is faced the better." 
 
 " Certainly, certainly," Harry assented absently. 
 Even the girl in the restaurant must know about it 
 soon ; there must be another pow-w^owing in all the 
 papers soon. But what would Cecily say ? " If ever 
 
 the time comes ." He had laughed at that ; it had 
 
 sounded so unlikely, so unreal, so theatrical. " If ever 
 the time comes, I shall remember." That was a strange 
 thing to look back to now. But it was all strange — 
 the affair of the beastly new viscounty, Blinkhampton 
 and its buildings, the Arbitration and the confidence of 
 Mr Disney. Madame Valfier — Comtessc d'Albreville 
 — with a little help from Addie Tristram had brought 
 all these things about. The result of Harry's review 
 of them was English enough to satisfy Wilmot Edge 
 himself. 
 
 " The whole thing makes me look rather an ass, I 
 think," said he. 
 
 " No doubt you acted impulsively," Edge allowed. 
 It was fully equivalent to an assent. 
 
 " Good heavens, I'd been brought up to it ! It had 
 always been the fact of my life." He made no pre- 
 tences about the matter now. " It never occurred to 
 me to think of any mistake. That certificate" — it lay 
 on the table still — " was the sword of Damocles." He 
 laughed as he spoke the hackneyed old phrase. " And 
 
 [353]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 Damocles knew the sword was there, or there'd have 
 been no point in it." 
 
 The two had rather lost track of his mood. They 
 looked at one another again. 
 
 " You've a lot to think of. We'll leave you," said the 
 Colonel. 
 
 " But — but what am I to do ? " Old Neeld's voice 
 was almost a bleat in his despair. " Am I to tell people 
 at Blentmouth ? " 
 
 " The communication should come from an authori- 
 tative quarter," Edge advised. 
 
 " It's bound to be a blow to her," said Neeld. " Sud- 
 denly lifted up, suddenly thrown down ! Poor girl ! " 
 
 " Justice is the first thing," declared Wilmot Edge. 
 Now he might have been on a court-martial. 
 
 They knew nothing whatever of the truth or the 
 true position. 
 
 " We may rely on — on Lord Tristram — to treat the 
 matter with every delicacy, Edge." 
 
 " I'm sure of it, Neeld, I'm sure of it." 
 
 " He has been through what is practically the same 
 experience himself." 
 
 " A very remarkable case, very remarkable. The 
 state of the law which makes such a thing possible " 
 
 " Ah, there I don't agree. Edge. There may be 
 hardships on individuals, but in the interests of 
 morality " 
 
 " You must occasionally put up with damned ab- 
 surdity," Harry interrupted rather roughly. " I beg 
 vour pardon, Mr Neeld. I — I'm a bit worried over 
 this." 
 
 They sat silent then, watching him for a few mo- 
 ments. He stood leaning his arm on the mantel-piece, 
 his brows knit but a smile lingering on his lips. He 
 was seeing the scene again, the scene in which he was 
 to tell Cecily. He knew what the end of it would be. 
 
 [354]
 
 There's the Lady Too! 
 
 They were strangers now. The scene would leave them 
 strangers still. Still Mina Zabriska would be left to 
 cry, " You Tristrams ! " Given that they were Tris- 
 trams, no other result was possible. They had been 
 through what Mr Neeld called practically the same ex- 
 perience already ; in that very room it had happened. 
 
 Suddenly the two men saw a light born in Harry's 
 eyes ; his brow grew smooth, the smile on his lips 
 wider. He gave a moment's more consideration to the 
 new thing. Then he raised his head and spoke to 
 Wilmot Edge. 
 
 " There are a good many complications in this mat- 
 ter, Colonel Edge. I've had my life upset once before, 
 and I assure you it's rather troublesome work. It 
 wants a little time and a little thinking. You get rather 
 confused — always changing your train, you know. I 
 have work on hand — plans and so forth. And, as you 
 say, of course there's the lady too." He laughed as 
 he ended by borrowing Neeld's phrase. 
 
 " I can understand all that, Lord Tristram." 
 
 " Do you mind saying Mr Tristram ? Saying Mr 
 Tristram to me and to everybody for the present ? It 
 won't be for long ; a week perhaps." 
 
 " You mean, keep the change in the position a se- 
 cret ? " Edge seemed rather startled. 
 
 " You've kept the secret for many years, Colonel. 
 Shall we say a week more ? And you too, Mr Neeld ? 
 Nothing at all to the people at Blentmouth ? Shall we 
 keep Miss S. in the dark for a week more ? " The 
 thought of Miss Swinkerton carried obvious amuse- 
 ment with it. 
 
 " You mean to choose your opportunity with — with 
 your cousin ? " Neeld asked. 
 
 " Yes, exactly — to choose my opportunity. You see 
 the difficult character of the situation ? I ask your ab- 
 solute silence for a week." 
 
 [3551
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 "Really I " Old Neeld hesitated a little. 
 
 "These concealments lead to such complications," he 
 complained. He was thinking, no doubt, of the Iver 
 engagement and the predicament in which it had landed 
 him. 
 
 ** I don't ask it on my own account. There's my 
 cousin." 
 
 " Yes, yes, Neeld, there's the lady too." 
 
 " Well, Edge, if you're satisfied, I can't stand out. 
 For a week then — silence." 
 
 '' Absolute ! " said Harry. " Without a look or a 
 word ? " 
 
 ** You have my promise," said Wilmot Edge. 
 
 " And mine. But — but I shall feel very awkward," 
 sighed poor Mr Neeld. He might have added that he 
 did feel a sudden and poignant pang of disappointment. 
 Lived there the man who would not have liked to carry 
 that bit of news in his portmanteau when he went out 
 of town ? At least that man was not Mr Jenkinson 
 Neeld. 
 
 " I'll choose my time, and I won't keep you long," 
 said Harry. 
 
 With that they left him. But they had a word to- 
 gether before Edge caught his 'bus in Piccadilly. 
 
 " Cool young chap ! " said he. " Took it quietly 
 enough." 
 
 " Yes, considering the enormous difference it 
 makes," agreed Neeld. His use of that particular 
 phrase was perhaps an unconscious reminiscence of 
 the words in the Journal, the words that Addie used 
 when she burst into Madame de Kries's room at Heidel- 
 berg. 
 
 Edge chuckled a little. " Not much put out about 
 the girl either, eh ? " 
 
 " Now you say so " Neeld shook his head. " I 
 
 hope he'll do it tactfully," he sighed. 
 
 [356]
 
 There's the Lady Too! 
 
 Edge did not seem to consider that likely. He in his 
 turn shook his head. 
 
 " I said no more than I thought about Addie Tris- 
 tram," he remarked. " But the fact is, they're a rum 
 lot, and there's no getting over it, Neeld." 
 
 " They — er — have their peculiarities, no doubt," ad- 
 mitted Mr Neeld. 
 
 [357]
 
 XXVI 
 
 A Business Call 
 
 " ni^ jjjT Y dear, isn't there something odd about 
 \/t Mr Neeld ? " Mrs Iver put the question, 
 
 J.T JLher anxious charity struggHng with a 
 natural inquisitiveness. 
 
 " About Neeld ? I don't know. Is there ? " He did 
 not so much as look up from his paper. " He's coming 
 with us to Blent to-night, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Yes. And he seems quite excited about that. And 
 he was positively rude to Miss Swinkerton at lunch 
 when she told him that Lady Tristram meant to give 
 a ball next winter. I expect his nerves are out of 
 order." 
 
 Small wonder if they were, surely ! Let us suppose 
 Guy Fawkes's scheme not prematurely discovered, and 
 one Member of a full House privy to it and awaiting the 
 result. That Member's position would be very like Mr 
 Neeld's. Would he listen to the debate with attention ? 
 Could he answer questions with sedulous courtesy ? 
 
 From the moment of his arrival ]\Ir Neeld had been 
 plunged into the Tristram affair, and surrounded by 
 people who were connected with it. But it must be ad- 
 mitted that he had it on his brain and saw it every- 
 where. For to-day it was not the leading topic of the 
 neighborhood, and Miss S.'s observation had been 
 only by the way. The engagement was the topic, and 
 only Neeld (or perhaps Mina Zabriska too, at Blent), 
 insisted on digging up a hypothetical past and repeat- 
 ing, in retrospective rumination, that Harry Tristram 
 might have been the lucky man. As for such an idea 
 
 [358]
 
 .A Business Call 
 
 — well, Miss S. happened to know that there had never 
 been anything in it ; Janie Iver herself had told her so, 
 she said. The question between Janie and Miss S., 
 which this assertion raises, may be passed by without 
 discussion. 
 
 He had met Gainsborough essaying a furtive entry 
 into Blentmouth and heading toward the curiosity- 
 shop — with a good excuse this time. It was Cecily's 
 birthday, and the occasion, which was to be celebrated 
 by a dinner-party, must be marked by a present also. 
 Neeld went with the little gentleman, and they bought 
 a bit of old Chelsea (which looked very young for its 
 age). Coming out, Gainsborough sighted Mrs Trum- 
 bler coming up High Street and Miss S. coming down 
 it. He doubled up a side street to the churchyard, 
 Neeld pursuing him at a more leisurely pace. 
 
 " It's positively worthy of a place at Blent — in the 
 Long Gallery," panted Gainsborough, hugging his 
 brown-paper-covered prize. " You'll be interested to 
 see the changes we're making, Mr Neeld. Cecily has 
 begun to take an enormous interest in the house, and 
 I — I'm settling down." 
 
 '■ You don't regret London ever? " 
 
 " I shall run up now and then. My duty is to my 
 daughter. Of course her life is changed." He sighed 
 as he added, " We're getting quite used to that." 
 
 " She has come to love the place, 1 dare say ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes. She's in very good spirits and quite 
 hapi)y in her position now, I think." He glanced over 
 his shoulder. Miss S. was in sight. " Good-by. So 
 glad we shall see you to-night." He made his escape 
 at a run. Neeld, having been interrogated at lunch 
 already, was allowed to pass by with a lift of his hat. 
 
 Janie was very happy. She at least thought no more 
 of that bygone episode. She asked no questions about 
 Harry Tristram. He had dropped out of her life. He 
 
 [359]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 seemed to have dropped out of the hfe of the country- 
 side too. That was strange anyhow, when it was 
 remembered how large a local figure the young man 
 had cut when Neeld came first to Fairholme ; it was 
 stranger still in view of what must soon be. The an- 
 nouncement of the engagement seemed to assume to 
 write Finis to Harry as a factor in Blentmouth society. 
 In that point of view the moment chosen for it was full 
 of an unconscious irony. Janie would not have gone 
 back to him now, and Neeld did not suspect her of any 
 feeling which could have made that possible. It was 
 merely odd that she should be putting an appropriate 
 finish to a thing which in the meantime had been sud- 
 denly, absolutely, and radically undone. Neeld was 
 loyal to his word ; but none may know the terrible 
 temptation he suffered ; a nod, a wink, a hint, an am- 
 biguity — anything would have given him some relief. 
 
 Harry was mentioned only once — in connection with 
 his letter to Iver about the Arbitration. Iver was not 
 inclined to let him go. 
 
 " He has great business ability. It's a pity to waste 
 his time. He can make money, Neeld." 
 
 " Disney's a good friend to ha'/e," Neeld suggested. 
 
 " If he stays in, yes. But this thing won't be 
 popular." 
 
 Neeld could maintain no interest in the conversation. 
 It had to proceed all along on a baseless presumption, 
 to deal with a state of things which did not exist. What 
 might be wise for Harry — Harry Nothing-at-all — 
 might be unwise for Tristram of Blent, and conversely. 
 
 " I must leave it to him," Iver concluded. " But I 
 shall tell him that I hope he won't go. He's got his 
 way in the world to make first. He can try politics 
 later on, if he likes." 
 
 " No doubt you're right," murmured old Neeld, 
 both uneasy and uninterested. He was feeling some- 
 
 [360]
 
 A Business Call 
 
 thing of what he had experienced once before ; he 
 knew the truth and he had to keep his friend in the dark. 
 In those earUer days he had one confidant, one accom- 
 pUce, in Mina Zabriska. The heavy secret was all his 
 own to carry now. 
 
 As a consequence of his preoccupation Janie Iver 
 found him rather unsympathetic, and with her usual 
 candor she told him so. 
 
 " You don't really appreciate Bob," said she. " No- 
 body quite knows him except me. I didn't use to, but 
 now I know what a strong character he has." 
 
 Unwontedly cynical thoughts rose in old Mr Neeld. 
 Had he come down to Fairholme to listen to the plati- 
 tudes of virtuous love ? Indeed he had come for no 
 such thing. All young men have strong characters 
 while they are engaged. 
 
 " And it's such a comfort to have a man one can lean 
 upon," Janie pursued, looking, however, admirably 
 capable of standing without extraneous support. 
 
 There it was again } She'd be calling him her 
 '■ master " next — as the heroine does in the Third Act, 
 to unfailing applause. What was all this to ears that 
 listened for a whisper of Harry Tristram ? 
 
 " The most delightful thing is," Janie pursued, " that 
 our marriage is to make no change at all in his way of 
 life. We're going to live at Mingham just as he has 
 lived all his life — a real country life on a farm ! " There 
 was no hint that other ideals of existence had ever 
 possessed an alluring charm ; the high life with Harry, 
 the broad and cosmopolitan life with the Major — where 
 were they ? " I've insisted on it, the one thing I've had 
 my own way in." 
 
 Bob was being transmogrified into a Man of Iron, if 
 not of Blood. Vainly Mr Neeld consulted his 
 memories. 
 
 " And Mingham's so bound up with it all. I used to 
 
 [361]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 go there with Mina Zabriska." She smiled in retrcj- 
 spect ; it would have been pardonable if Neeld had 
 smiled too. " I haven't seen her for ever so long," 
 Janie added, " but she'll be at Blent to-night." 
 
 Ah, if he might give just the barest hint to Mina 
 now ! 
 
 " Bob isn't particularly fond of her, you see, so we 
 don't meet much now. He thinks she's rather spite- 
 ful." 
 
 " Not at all," said Neeld, almost sharply. " She's a 
 very intelligent woman." 
 
 " Oh yes,"intelligent ! " She said no more. If people 
 did not agree with Bob — well, there it was. 
 
 Bob bore his idealization very well. It was easy to 
 foresee a happy and a remarkably equable married life. 
 But the whole thing had no flavor for Mr Neeld's 
 palate, spoilt by the spices of Tristram vagaries. A 
 decent show of friendliness was all he could muster. It 
 was all that Iver himself seemed to expect ; he was 
 resigned but by no means exultant. 
 
 "The girl's very happy, and that's the thing. For 
 myself — well, I've" got most of the things I started to 
 get, and if this isn't quite what I looked forward to — 
 Well, you remember how things fell out ? " 
 
 Neeld nodded. He remembered that very well. 
 
 " And, as I say, it's all very satisfactory." He 
 shrugged his shoulders and relighted his cigar. He 
 was decidedly a reasonable man, thought Neeld. 
 
 The evening came — Neeld had been impatient for 
 it — and they drove over to Blent, where Bob was to 
 meet them. 
 
 " It's a fine place for a girl to have," said Iver, 
 stirred to a sudden sense of the beauty of the old house 
 as it came into view. 
 
 They were all silent for a moment. Such a place to 
 have, such a place to lose ! Neeld heard Mrs Iver 
 
 [362]
 
 A Business Call 
 
 sighing in her good-natured motherly fashion. But 
 still Harry was not mentioned. 
 
 " And if they had a business man — with his head on 
 his shoulders — to manage the estate, it'd be worth half 
 as much again." This time it was Iver who sighed ; 
 the idea of anything not having all the money made 
 out of it that could be made offended his instincts. 
 
 " She'll have a husband, dear," his wife reminded 
 him. 
 
 " I wonder if Bob'll get there before we do." said 
 Janie, with the air of starting a subject of real interest 
 in lieu of continuing idle talk. 
 
 The evening was hot and the hall-door of Blent stood 
 open. Cecily was sitting in the hall, and came out to 
 greet them. She seemed to Neeld to complete the pict- 
 ure as she stood there in her young fairness, graciously 
 welcoming her guests. She was pale, but wore a gay 
 air and did the honors with natural dignity. No sign 
 of strangeness to the place, and no embarrassment, 
 were visible. 
 
 " Oh, my dear, how you remind me of Lady Tris- 
 tram ! " good Mrs Iver broke out. 
 
 Neeld pressed the girl's hand with a grip that she 
 noticed ; she looked at him in a sort of question and for 
 a moment flushed a little. 
 
 " It's very kind of you to come," she said to him 
 softly. 
 
 " How are you, Mr Neeld ? " The Imp had sud- 
 denly darted out from somewhere and was offering her 
 hand. " I'm staying here, you know." And in a 
 whisper she added, " That young man of Janie's has 
 been here a quarter of an hour, and Cecily wasn't 
 dressed, and I've had to talk to him. Oh, dear ! " She 
 had her hand on his arm and drew him apart. " Any 
 news of Harry Tristram ? " she whispered. 
 
 " Er — no — none." 
 
 I 363]
 
 Tristram of Ble'nt 
 
 Her quick eyes looked at him in suspicion ; he had 
 hesitated a little. 
 
 " You've seen him? " she asked. 
 
 " Just casually, Madame Zabriska."' 
 
 She turned away with a peevish little pout. " Then 
 you're not very interesting," she seemed to say. But 
 Neeld forgave her : she had asked him about Harry. 
 He could forgive more easily because he had deluded 
 her. 
 
 Addie Tristram's picture was at one end of the 
 dining-room now, and Cecily's place was under it. 
 ,. " My first dinner-party! Although it's a small one," 
 she said to Iver as she sat down. 
 
 " Your first at Blent ? " 
 
 " The first anywhere — actually ! " she laughed, and 
 then grew thoughtful for a moment, glancing out into 
 the dark and listening to the flap of a bat's wing 
 against the window. 
 
 " You'll have plenty now," said he, as he watched 
 lier admiringly. He forgot, man that he was, that 
 girls do not find permanent happiness in dinner- 
 parties. 
 
 It was evident that Neeld ought never to have come 
 to Blent that evening. For the talk was of futures, 
 and, out of deference to the young hostess, even more 
 of hers than of the engaged couple's. Theirs indeed 
 was not provocative of discussion ; if satisfactory, it 
 was also obvious. Cecily's opened more topics, and 
 she herself was willing and seemed even eager to dis- 
 cuss it. She fell in with Mrs Tver's suggestion that she 
 ought to be a centre of good works in the district, and 
 in pursuance of this idea should accept the position 
 of Patron to Miss Swinkerton's complicated scheme of 
 benevolence. She agreed with Iver that the affairs of 
 the estate probably wanted overhauling, and that a 
 capable man should be engaged for the task, even at 
 
 [364]
 
 A Business Call 
 
 some expense. She professed herself ready to co- 
 operate with Bob in protecting the fishing of the Blent. 
 She was, in a word, very much the proprietor. It was 
 difficult for Neeld to sit and hear all this. And op- 
 posite to him sat Mina Zabriska, rather silent and 
 demure, but losing no chance of reminding him by a 
 stealthy glance that this ordinary talk covered a re- 
 markable situation — as indeed it did, but not of the 
 precise nature that Mina supposed. Neeld felt as 
 though he were behind the scenes of fate's theatre, and 
 he did not find the place comfortable. He saw the next 
 tableau in preparation and had to ask himself what its 
 effect would be on an unsuspecting audience. He came 
 to the conclusion that foreknowledge was an attribute 
 not likely to make human beings happy ; it could not 
 easily make terms with sympathy. 
 
 When dessert was on the table, Iver, true to his 
 habits and traditions, felt that it was the occasion for a 
 few friendly informal words ; the birthday and the ma- 
 joritv of young Lady Tristram demanded so much rec- 
 ognition. Admirably concise and simple in ordinary 
 conversation, he became, like so many of his country- 
 men, rather heavy and pompous when he got on his legs. 
 Yet he made what everybody except Mina Zabriska 
 considered a very appropriate little speech. Gains- 
 borough grew quite enthusiastic over it ; and Neeld 
 thought it was wonderfully good (if it had not hap- 
 l)cned, of course, to be by force of circumstances an 
 absurdity from beginning to end). Cecily was content 
 to say. " Thank you," but her father could not refuse 
 himself the privilege of reply ; the reply was on her be- 
 half, but it was mainly about himself — also a not un- 
 common characteristic of after-dinner oratory. How- 
 ever he agreed with Iver that everything was for the 
 best, and that they were entitled to congratulate their 
 hostess and themselves on things at large. Then Neeld 
 
 [365]
 
 Tristram <?/ Blent 
 
 had a turn over the engagement (a subject dull but 
 safe !) and the proceedings were stopped only by Bob 
 Broadley's headlong flight when the question of his re- 
 sponse arose. 
 
 "Thank goodness, that's over!" said Mina snap- 
 pishly, as she stepped out into the garden, followed by 
 Mr Neeld. The rest went ofl to see the treasures of 
 the Long Gallery. Mina turned to him with a quick 
 question : " You saw Mr Tristram, how is he? " 
 
 " Harry Tristram is quite well and in very good 
 spirits. I never saw a man better in my life." 
 
 Mina was silent for a moment. Then she broke 
 out: " I call it disgusting. He's in good spirits, and 
 she's in good spirits, and — and there's an end of it, I 
 suppose ! The next thing will be " 
 
 " It's not the end if there's a next thing," Neeld 
 suggested timidly. 
 
 " Oh, don't be tiresome. The next thing'U be some 
 stupid girl for him and some idiot of a man for her. 
 How I wish I'd never come to Merrion ! " 
 
 " Don't despair ; things may turn out better than 
 you think." 
 
 " They can't," she declared fretfully. " I shall go 
 away." 
 
 " What a pity ! Miss Gainsborough — Lady Tris- 
 tram, I mean — will miss you so much." 
 
 " Let her! " said the Imp ungraciously. " I've put 
 myself out enough about the Tristrams." 
 
 Neeld forbore to remind her of the entirely volun- 
 tary nature of her sacrifices ; after all he was not the 
 man to throw stones on that account. 
 
 " Wait a few days anyhow," he urged her. In a 
 few days something must happen. 
 
 " A few days ? Oh, yes ! " As a matter of fact she 
 meant to stay all the winter. " She's started," she went 
 on, with an irritated jerk of her head toward the Long 
 
 [366]
 
 A Business Call 
 
 Gallery, " putting all the things in different places and 
 rearranging everything." 
 
 " I should imagine that Mr Gainsborough's enjoy- 
 ing himself then ? " 
 
 " She doesn't let him touch a thing," replied Mina 
 with a fleeting smile. " He just stands about with a 
 duster. That contents him well enough, though. Oh, 
 yes, I shall go. The Broadleys won't care about me, 
 and Cecily won't want me long." 
 
 Neeld could give real comfort only at the price of 
 indiscretion. Moreover he was not at all sure that a 
 disclosure of the truth would bring any comfort, for 
 Mina wanted to be on both sides and to harmonize 
 devotion to Cecily with zeal for Harry. Neeld did 
 not quite see how this was to be done, since it was 
 understood that as Harry would take nothing from 
 Cecily, so Cecily would refuse anything from Harry. 
 
 " We must wait and see how it all turns out," said 
 he. 
 
 " I hate people who say that," grumbled Mina dis- 
 consolately. " And I do think that the Ivers have 
 grown extraordinarily stupid — caught it from Bob 
 Broadley, I suppose." 
 
 When injustice springs not from judgment but from 
 temper, it is not worth arguing against. Neeld held his 
 tongue and they sat silent on the seat by the river, 
 looking across to Merrion and hearing the voices of 
 their friends through the open windows of the Long 
 Gallery. 
 
 Presently there came to them through the stillness of 
 the night the sound of wheels, not on the Blentmouth 
 side, but up the valley, on the Mingham and Filling- 
 ford road. The somid ceased without the appearance 
 of any vehicle, but it had reminded Neeld of the prog- 
 ress of time. 
 
 " Tt must be getting late," he said, rising. " I'll go 
 
 [367]
 
 Tristram ^^ Blent 
 
 and see if they think of starting home. Did you hear 
 wheels on the road — toward the Pool?" 
 
 " Bob Broadley's cart coming for him, I suppose." 
 
 " No, I don't think so. He's going back to Fair- 
 holme with us. I heard him say so." 
 
 Mina was languidly indifferent, and Mr Neeld trot- 
 ted ofif into the house. Mina sat on, frowning at the idea 
 that in a few minutes she would have to go in and say 
 good-by ; for the voices came no more from the Long 
 Gallery and she heard the guests laughing and chat- 
 tering in the hall, as they prepared for departure. Sud- 
 denly she discerned the figure of a man coming into 
 sight across the river. He walked slowly, as it seemed 
 stealthily, till he came to the end of the footbridge. 
 Then he halted and looked up at the house. It was 
 gayly lighted. After waiting a moment the man turned 
 back and disappeared up the road in the direction of 
 Mingham. Mina rose and strolled to the bridge. She 
 crossed it and looked up the road. She could make 
 out dimly the stranger's retreating form. 
 
 She heard Cecily calling to her, and ran back to the 
 house. A wonderful idea had come into her liead, born 
 of a vaguely familiar aspect that the bearing of the 
 man had for her. But she laughed at it, telling her- 
 self that it was all nonsense ; and as she joined in the 
 talk and farewells it grew faint and was almost for- 
 gotten. Yet she whispered to old Neeld with a laugh : 
 
 " I saw a man on the road just now who looked 
 rather like Harry. I couldn't see him properly, you 
 know." 
 
 Neeld started and looked at her with obvious ex- 
 citement. She repaid his stare with one of equal 
 intensity. 
 
 "Why, you don't think ?" she began in 
 
 amazement. 
 
 " Come, Neeld, we're waiting for you," cried Iver 
 
 [368]
 
 A Business Call 
 
 from the wagonette, while Bob in irrepressible spirits 
 burst into song as he gathered up the reins. He had 
 deposed the coachman and had Janie with him on the 
 box. 
 
 They drove off, waving their hands and shouting 
 good-night. Mina ran a little way after them and saw 
 Neeld turning his head this way and that, as though 
 he thought there might be something to see. When 
 she returned she found Gainsborough saying good- 
 night to his daughter ; at the same moment the lights 
 in the Long Gallery were put out. Cecily slipped her 
 arm through hers and they walked out again into the 
 garden. After three or four minutes the wagonette, 
 having made the circuit necessary to reach the carriage- 
 bridge, drove by on the road across the river, with 
 more waving of hands and shouts of good-night. An 
 absolute stillness came as the noise of its wheels died 
 away. 
 
 "I've got through that all right," said Cecily with 
 a laugh, drawing her friend with her toward the 
 bridge. " I suppose I shall be quite accustomed to it 
 soon." 
 
 They went on to the bridge and halted in the middle 
 of it, by a common impulse as it seemed. 
 
 *' The sound of a river always says to me that it 
 all doesn't matter much," Cecily went on, leaning on 
 the parapet. " I believe that's been expressed more 
 poetically ! " 
 
 " It's great nonsense, however it's expressed," ob- 
 served Mina scornfully. 
 
 " I sometimes feci as if it was true." Probably 
 Cecily thought that nobody — no girl — no girl in love — 
 had ever had the feeling before. A delusive appear- 
 ance of novelty is one of the most dangerous weapons 
 of Cupid. But Mina was an experienced woman — 
 had been married too ! 
 
 [369]
 
 Tristram <?/' Blent 
 
 " Don't talk stuff, my dear/' she cried crossly. " And 
 why are we standing on this horrid little bridge? " 
 
 She turned round ; Cecily still gazed in melancholy 
 abstraction into the stream. Cecily, then, faced down 
 the valley, Mina looked up it ; and at the moment the 
 moon showed a quarter of her face and illuminated a 
 streak of the Fillingford road. 
 
 The man was there. He was there again. The 
 moonlight fell on his face. He smiled at Mina, pointed 
 a hand toward Blentmouth, and smiled again. He 
 seemed to mock the ignorance of the vanished wagon- 
 ette. Mina made no sign. He laid his finger on his 
 lips, and nodded slightly toward Cecily. The clouds 
 covered the moon again, and there was no more on 
 the Fillingford road than a black blotch on the deep 
 gray of the night ; even this vanished a moment after. 
 And still Cecily gazed down into the Blent. 
 
 Presently she turned round. " I suppose we must 
 go in," she said grudgingly. " It's getting rather 
 chilly." They were both in low-cut frocks, and had 
 come out without any wraps. With the intuition of a 
 born schemer Mina seized on the chance. 
 
 " Oh, it's so lovely! " she cried, with an apparently 
 overwhelming enthusiasm for nature. " Too perfectl> 
 lovely! I'll run in and get some cloaks. Wait here 
 till I come back, Cecily." 
 
 " Well, don't be long," said Cecily, crossing her bare 
 arms with a little shiver. 
 
 Off the Imp ran, and vanished into the house. But 
 she made no search for wraps. After a moment's hesi- 
 tation in the hall, the deceitful creature ran into the 
 library. All was dark there : a window was open and 
 showed the bridge, with Cecily's figure on it making a 
 white blur in the darkness. Mina crouched on the 
 window-sill and waited. The absolute unpardonable- 
 ness of her conduct occurred to her ; with a smile she 
 
 [370]
 
 A Business Call 
 
 dismissed the consideration. He — and she — who de- 
 sires the end must needs put up with the means ; it is 
 all the easier when the means happen to be uncom- 
 monly thriUing. 
 
 Harry was humbled ! That was the conclusion 
 which shot through her mind. What else could his 
 coming mean? If it meant less than that, it was mere 
 cruelty. If it meant that A keen pang of dis- 
 appointment shot through her. It was the only w^ay 
 to what she desired, but it was not the way which 
 she would have preferred him to tread. Yet because 
 it was the only way, she wished it — with the reservation 
 that it would have been nuich better if it could have 
 happened in some other fashion. But anyhow the po- 
 sition, not to say her position, had every element of 
 excitement. " Poor old Mr Neeld ! " she murmured 
 once. It was hard on him to miss this. At the mo- 
 ment Neeld was smiling over the ignorance in which 
 he had been bound to keep her. It is never safe to 
 suppose, however pleasant it may be to believe, that 
 nobody is pitying us ; either of his knowledge or of 
 his ignorance someone is always at it. 
 
 She started violently and turned round. The butler 
 was there, candle in hand. 
 
 " Is her Ladyship still out, ma'am?" he asked, ad- 
 vancing. " I was going to lock up." He was hardly 
 surprised to find her — they knew she was odd — and 
 would not have shown it, if he had been. 
 
 " Oh, go to bed," she cried in a low voice. " We'll 
 lock up. We don't want anything, anything at all." 
 
 " Very good. Good-night, ma'arn." 
 
 What an escape ! Suppose Cecily had seen her at 
 the window ! 
 
 But Cecily was not looking at the window. She 
 moved to the far end of the bridge and stood gazing 
 up toward Merrion, where one light twinkled in an 
 
 [371I
 
 Tristram ^' Blent 
 
 upper room. Mina saw her stretch out her arms for a 
 moment toward the sky. What had happened? It 
 was impossible that he had gone away ! Mina craned 
 her head out of the window, looking and listening. 
 Happen what might, be the end of it what it might, 
 this situation was deliciouslv strong of the Tristrams. 
 They were redeeming their characters ; they had not 
 settled down into the ordinary or been gulfed in the 
 slough of the commonplace. Unexpected appearances 
 and midnight interviews of sentimental moment were 
 still to be hoped for from them. There was not yet an 
 end of all. 
 
 He came ; Mina saw his figure on the road, at first 
 dimly, then with a sudden distinctness as a gleam of 
 moonlight shone out. He stood a little way up the 
 road to Cecily's right. She did not see him yet, for 
 she looked up to Merrion. He took a step forward, 
 his tread sounding loud on the road. There was a 
 sudden turn of Cecily's head. A moment's silence fol- 
 lowed. He came up to her, holding out his hand. She 
 drew back, shrinking from it. Laying her hands on 
 the gate of the bridge, she seemed to set it as a fence 
 between them. Her voice reached Mina's ears, low, yet 
 as distinct as though she had been by her side, and 
 full of a terrified alarm and a bitter reproach. 
 " You here ! Oh, you promised, you promiised ! " 
 With a bound Mina's conscience awoke. She had 
 heard what no ears save his had any right to hear. 
 What if she were found? The conscience was not 
 above asking that, but it was not below feeling an in- 
 tolerable shame even without the discovery that it sug- 
 gested as her punishment. Blushing red there in the 
 dark, she slipped from the window-seat and groped 
 her way to a chair. Here she flung herself down with 
 a sob of excitement and emotion. He had promised. 
 And the promise was broken in his coming. 
 
 [372]
 
 A Business Call 
 
 Now she heard their steps on the path outside ; they 
 were walking toward the house. Telhng herself that 
 it was impossible for her to move now, for fear she 
 should encounter them, she sank lower in her arm- 
 chair. 
 
 " Well, where shall we go ? " she heard Cecily ask in 
 cold, stiff tones. 
 
 " To the Long Gallery," said Harry. 
 
 The next moment old Mason the butler was in the 
 room again, this time in great excitement. 
 
 " There's someone in the garden with her Ladyship, 
 ma'am," he cried. " I think — I think it's my Lord! " 
 
 " Who ? " asked Mina, sitting up, feigning to be 
 calm and sleepy. 
 
 " Mr Harrv, I mean, ma'am." 
 
 " Oh ! Well then, go and see." 
 
 The old man turned and went out into the hall. 
 
 " How are you. Mason ? " she heard Harry say. 
 " Her Ladyship and I have some business to talk 
 about. May I have a sandwich afterward ? " 
 
 There he was, spoiling the drama, in Mina's humble 
 opinion! Who should think of sandwiches now? 
 
 " Do what Mr Tristram says. Mason," said Cecily. 
 
 She heard them begin to mount the stairs. Jumping 
 up, she ran softly to the door and out into the hall. 
 Alason stood there with his candle, staring up after 
 Cecily and Harry. He turned to Mina with a quizzical 
 smile wrinkling his good-natured face. 
 
 " You'd think it a funny time for business, wouldn't 
 you, ma'am ? " he asked. He paused a moment, strok- 
 ing his chin. " Unless you'd happened to be in service 
 twenty years with her late Ladyship. Well, I'm glad 
 to see him again, anyhow." 
 
 " What shall we do? " whispered Mina. " Are you 
 going to bed. Mason? " 
 
 " Not me, ma'am. Why, I don't know what mayn't 
 
 [373]
 
 Tristram oJ^ Blent 
 
 happen before the morning! " He shook his head in 
 humorous commentary on those he had served. " But 
 there's no call for you to sit up, ma'am." 
 
 " I'll thank you to mind your own business, Mason," 
 said the Imp indignantly. " It would be most — most 
 improper if I didn't sit up. Why, it's nearly midnight ! " 
 
 " They won't think of that up there," said he. 
 
 The sound of a door slammed came from upstairs. 
 Mina's eyes met Mason's for a moment by an involun- 
 tary impulse, then hastily turned away. It is an excel- 
 lent thing to be out of the reach of temptation. The 
 door was shut ! 
 
 " Give me a candle here in the library," said Mina 
 with all her dignity. And there, in the library, she 
 sat down to wonder and to wait. 
 
 Mason went ofi after the sandwiches, smiling still. 
 There was really nothing odd in it, when once you 
 were accustomed to the family ways. 
 
 [374]
 
 XXVII 
 
 Before Translation 
 
 HARRY TRISTRAIM had come back to Blent 
 in the mood which belonged to the place as of 
 old — the mood that claimed as his right what had 
 become his by love, knew no scruples if only he could 
 gain and keep it, was ready to play a bold game and 
 take a great chance. He did not argue about what he 
 was going to do. He did not justify it, and perhaps 
 could not. Yet to him what he purposed was so clearly 
 the best thing that Cecily must be forced into it. She 
 could not be forced by force ; if he told her the truth, he 
 would meet at the outset a resistance which he could 
 not quell. He might encounter that after all, later on, 
 in spite of a present success. That was the great risk 
 he was determined to run. At the worst there would 
 be something gained ; if she were and would be noth- 
 ing else, she should and must at least be mistress of 
 Blent. His imagination had set her in that place ; his 
 pride, no less than his love, demanded it for her. He 
 had gone away once that she might have it. If need 
 be, again he would go away. That stood for decision 
 later. 
 
 She walked slowly to the end of the Long Gallery 
 and sat down in the great arm-chair; it held its old 
 position in spite of the changes which Harry noted 
 with quick eyes and a suppressed smile as he followed 
 her and set his candle on a table near. He lit two 
 more from it and then turned to her. She was pale 
 and defiant. 
 
 [375]
 
 Tristram <9/^ Blent 
 
 " Well," she said, " why are you here? " 
 
 She asked and he gave no excuse for the untimely 
 hour of his visit and no explanation of it. It seemed a 
 small, perhaps indeed a natural, thing to both of them. 
 
 " I'm here because I couldn't keep away," he an- 
 swered gravely, standing before her. 
 
 *' You promised to keep away. Can't you keep 
 promises? " 
 
 " No, not such prom.ises as that." 
 
 " And so you make my life impossible ! You see 
 this room, you see how I've changed it? I've been 
 changing everything I could. Why? To forget you, 
 to blot you out, to be rid of you. I've been bringing 
 myself to take my place. To-night I seemed at last 
 to be winning my way to it. Now you come. You 
 gave me all this ; why do you make it impossible to 
 me ? " A bright color came on her cheeks now as she 
 grew vehement in her reproaches, and her voice was 
 intense, though low. 
 
 A luxury of joy swept over him as he listened. Every 
 taunt witnessed to his power, every reproach to her 
 love. He played a trick indeed and a part, but there 
 was no trick and no acting in so far as he was her 
 lover. If that truth could not redeem his deception, it 
 stifled all sense of guilt. 
 
 " And you were forgetting ? You were getting rid 
 of me? " he asked, smiling and fixing his eyes on her. 
 
 " Perhaps. And now ! " She made a gesture of 
 
 despair. " Tell me — why have you come? " Her tone 
 changed to entreaty. 
 
 " I've come because I must be where you are, because 
 I was mad to send you away before, mad not to come 
 to you before, to think I could live without you, not to 
 see that we two must be together; because you're 
 everything to me." He had come nearer to her now 
 and stood by her. " Ever since I went away I have 
 
 [376]
 
 Before Translation 
 
 seen you in this room, in that chair. I think it was 
 your ghost only that came to town." He laughed a 
 moment. '" I wouldn't have the ghost. I didn't know 
 why. Now I know. I wanted the you that was here — 
 the real you — as you had been on the night I went 
 away. So I've come back to you. We're ourselves 
 here, Cecily. We Tristrams are ourselves at Blent." 
 
 She had listened silently, her eyes on his. She 
 seemed bewildered by the sudden rush of his passion 
 and the enraptured eagerness of his words that made 
 her own vehemence sound to her poor and thin. Pride 
 had its share in her protest, love was the sole spring 
 of his intensity. Yet she was puzzled by the victorious 
 light in his eyes. What he said, what he came to do, 
 was such a surrender as she had never hoped from 
 him ; and he was triumphant in surrendering ! 
 
 The thought flashed through her mind, troubling 
 her and for the time hindering her joy in his confession. 
 She did not trust him yet. 
 
 " I've had an oi¥er made to me," he resumed, regain- 
 ing his composure. " A sort of political post. If I 
 accept it I shall have to leave England for a consider- 
 able time, almost immediately. That brought the thing 
 to a point." Again he laughed. " It's important to 
 you too ; because if you say no to me to-night, you'll 
 be rid of me for ever so long. Your life won't be made 
 impossible. I shouldn't come to Blent again." 
 
 "A post that would take you away?" she mur- 
 mured. 
 
 " Yes. You'd be left here in peace. I've not come 
 to blackmail you into loving me, Cecily. Yes, you 
 shall be left in peace to move the furniture about." 
 Glancing toward the table, he saw Mr Gainsborough's 
 birthday gift. He took it up, looked at it for a mo- 
 ment, and then replaced it. His manner was involun- 
 tarily expressive. Even if she brought that sort of 
 
 [377J
 
 Tristram oJ Blent 
 
 thing to Blent ! He turned back at the sound of 
 
 a Uttle laugh from Cecily and found her eyes sparkling". 
 
 " Father's birthday present, Harry," said she. 
 
 Delighted with her mirth, he came to her, holding out 
 his hands. She shook her head and leant back, look- 
 ing at him. 
 
 " Sit as my mother did. You know. Yes, like 
 that ! " he cried. 
 
 She had obeyed him with a smile. Not to be denied 
 now, he seized the hand that lay in her lap. 
 
 " A birthday ! Yes, of course, you're twenty-one ! 
 Really mistress of it all now ! And you don't know 
 what to do with it, except spoil the arrangement of 
 the furniture? " 
 
 She laughed low and luxuriously. '' What am I to 
 do with it ? " she asked. 
 
 " Well, won't you give it all to me? " As he spoke 
 he laughed and kissed her hand. " I've come to ask 
 vou for it. Here I am. I've come fortune-hunting to- 
 night." 
 
 ■' It's all mine now, you say ? Harry, take it without 
 me," 
 
 " If I did, I'd burn it to the ground that it mightn't 
 remind me of you." 
 
 "Yes, yes! That's what I've wanted to do!" she 
 exclaimed, drawing her hand out of his and raising 
 her arms a moment in the air. Addie Tristram's pose 
 was gone, but Harry did not miss it now. 
 
 " Take it without you indeed ! It's all for you and 
 because of you." 
 
 " Really, really ? " She grew grave. " Harry, dear, 
 for pity's sake tell me if you love me ! " 
 
 " Haven't I told you ? " he cried gayly. " Where are 
 the poets ? Oh, for some good quotations ! I'm in- 
 fernally unpoetical, I know. Is this it — that you're al- 
 ways before my eyes, always in my head, that you're 
 
 [378J
 
 Before Translation 
 
 terribly in the way, that when I've got anything worth 
 thinking I think it to you, anything worth doing 
 I do it for you, anything good to say I say it 
 to you? Is this it, that I curse myself and curse you? 
 Is this it, that I know rhyself only as your lover and 
 that if I'm not that, then I seem nothing at all? I've 
 never been in love before, but all that sounds rather 
 like it." 
 
 " And you'll take Blent from me? " 
 
 " Yes, as the climax of all, I'll take Blent from 
 you." 
 
 To her it seemed the chmax, the thing she found 
 hardest to believe, the best evidenc. for the truth of 
 those extravagant words which sounded so sweet in 
 her ears. Harry saw this, but he held on his way. 
 Nay, now he himself forgot his trick, and could still 
 have gone on had there been none, had he in truth 
 been accepting Blent from her hands. Even at the 
 price of pride he would have had her now. 
 
 She rose suddenly, and began to walk to and fro 
 across the end of the room, while he stood by the table 
 watching her. 
 
 " Well, isn't it time you said something to me ? " he 
 suggested with a smile. 
 
 " Give me time, Harry, give me time. The world's 
 all changed to-night. You — yes, you came suddenly 
 out of the darkness of the night " — she waved her hand 
 toward the window — " and changed the world for me. 
 How am I to believe it? And if I can believe it. 
 what can I say? Let me alone for a minute, Harry 
 dear." 
 
 He was well content to wait and watch. All time 
 seemed before them, and how better could he fill it? 
 He seemed himself to suffer in this hour a joyful trans- 
 formation ; to know better why men lived and loved 
 to live, to reach out to the full strength and the full 
 
 [379]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 function of his being. The world changed for him as 
 he changed it for her. 
 
 Twice and thrice she had paced the gallery before 
 she came and stood opposite to him. She put her 
 hands up to her throat, saying, " I'm stifled — stifled 
 with happiness, Harry." 
 
 For answer he sprang forward and caught her in his 
 arms. In the movement he brushed roughly against 
 the table ; there was a little crash, and poor Mr Gains- 
 borough's birthday gift lay smashed to bits on the floor. 
 For the second time their love bore hard on Mr Gains- 
 borough's crockery. Startled they turned to look, and 
 then they both broke into merry laughter. The trump- 
 ery thing had seemed a sign to them, and now the sign 
 was broken. Their first kiss was mirthful over its 
 destruction. 
 
 With a sigh of joy she disengaged herself from him. 
 
 " That's settled then," said Harry. He paused a 
 moment. " You had Janie and Bob Broadley here to- 
 night? I saw them as I lay hidden by the road. Does 
 that kind of engagement attract you, Cecily? " 
 
 " Ours won't be like that," she said, laughing tri- 
 umphantly. 
 
 " Don't let's have one at all," he suggested, coming 
 near to her again. " Let's have no engagement. Just 
 a wedding." 
 
 " What?" she cried. 
 
 " It must be a beastly time," he went on. " and all the 
 talk there's been about us will make it more beastly 
 still. Fancy Miss S. and all the rest of them ! And — 
 do you particularly want to wait? What I want is to 
 be settled down, here with you." 
 
 Her eyes sparkled as she listened ; she was in the 
 mood, she was of the stuff, for any adventure. 
 
 " I should like to run off with you now," said he. 
 " I don't want to leave vou at all, vou see." 
 
 '[380]
 
 Before Translation 
 
 {( 
 
 Run off now?" She gave a joyful little laugh. 
 " That's just what I should Hke ! " 
 
 " Then we'll do it," he declared. " Well, to-morrow 
 morning anyhow." 
 
 " Do you mean it? " she asked. 
 
 " Do you say no to it ? " 
 
 She drew herself up with pride. " I say no to noth- 
 ing that you ask of me." 
 
 Their hands met again as she declared her love and 
 trust. " You've really come to me ? " he heard her 
 murmur. " Back to Blent and back to me ? " 
 
 " Yes," he answered, smiling. She had brought into 
 his mind again the truth she did not know. He had no 
 time to think of it, for she offered him her lips again. 
 The moment when he might have told her thus went 
 by. It was but an impulse ; for he still loved what he 
 was doing, and took delight in the risks of it. And he 
 could not bear so to impair her joy. Soon she must 
 know, but she should not yet be robbed of her joy 
 that it was she who could bring him back to Blent. 
 For him in his knowledge, for her in her ignorance, 
 there was an added richness of pleasure that he would 
 not throw away, even although now he believed that 
 were the truth known she would come to him still. 
 Must not that be, since now he, even he, would come 
 to her, though the truth had been otherwise? 
 
 " There's a train from Fillingford at eight in the 
 morning. I'm going back there to-night. I've got a fly 
 waiting by the Pool — if the man hasn't gone to sleep 
 and the horse run away. Will you meet me there? 
 We'll go up to town and be married as soon as we can — 
 the day after to-morrow, I suppose." 
 
 "And then ?" 
 
 " Oh, then just come back here. We can go no- 
 where but here, Cecily." 
 
 "Just come back and ?" 
 
 [381]
 
 Tristram ^Blent 
 
 " And let them find it out, and talk, and talk, and 
 talk ! " he laughed. 
 
 " It would be delightful ! " she cried. 
 
 " Nobody to know till it's done ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I like it like that. Not father even, 
 though?" 
 
 " You'll be gone before he's up. Leave a line for 
 him." 
 
 " But I — I can't go alone with you." 
 
 " Why not? " asked Harry, seeming a trifle vexed. 
 
 " I'll tell you ! " she cried. " Let's take Mina with 
 us, Harry ! " 
 
 He laughed ; the Imp was the one person whose 
 presence he was ready to endure. Indeed there would 
 perhaps be a piquancy in that. 
 
 " All right. An elopement made respectable by 
 Mina ! " He had a touch of scorn even for mitigated 
 respectability. 
 
 " Shall we call her and tell her now? " 
 
 " Well, are you tired of this interview ? " 
 
 " I don't know whether I want it to go on, or 
 whether I must go and tell somebody about it." 
 
 " I shouldn't hesitate," smiled Harry. 
 
 " You ? No. But I — Oh, Harry dear, I want to 
 whisper my triumph." 
 
 " But we must be calm and business-like about it 
 now." 
 
 " Yes ! " She entered eagerly into the fun. " That'll 
 puzzle Mina even more." 
 
 " We're not doing anything unusual," he insisted 
 with affected gravity. 
 
 " No — not for our family at least." 
 
 " It's just the obvious thing to do." 
 
 " Oh, it's just the dehcious thing too ! " She almost 
 danced in gayety. " Let me call Mina. Do ! " 
 
 [382]
 
 Before Translation 
 
 " Not for a moment, as you love me ! Give me a 
 moment more." 
 
 " Oh, Harry, there'll be no end to that ! " 
 
 " I don't know why there should be." 
 
 " We should miss the train at Fillingford ! " 
 
 " Ah, if it means that ! " 
 
 " Or I shall come sleepy and ugly to it ; and you'd 
 leave me on the platform and go away ! " 
 
 " Shout for Mina — now — without another word ! " 
 
 " Oh, just one more," she pleaded, laughing. 
 
 " I can't promise to be moderate." 
 
 " Come, we'll go and find her. Give me your hand." 
 She caught his hand in hers, and snatched the candle 
 from the table. She held it high above her head, look- 
 ing round the room and back to his eyes again. " My 
 home now, because my love is here," she said. " Mine 
 and yours, and yours and mine — and both the same 
 thing, Harry, now." 
 
 He listened smiling. Yes, it would be the same thing 
 now. 
 
 There they stood together for a moment, and to- 
 gether they sighed as they turned away. To them the 
 room was sacred now, as it had always been beautiful ; 
 in it their love seemed to lie enshrined. 
 
 They went downstairs together full of merriment, the 
 surface expression of their joy. "Look grave," ho 
 whispered, setting his face in a comical exaggeration 
 of seriousness. Cecily tried to obey and tumbled into a 
 gurgle of delight. 
 
 " I will directly," she gasped as they came to the 
 hall. Mason stood there waiting. 
 
 " I've put the sandwiches here, and the old brown, 
 my Lord." 
 
 Harry alone noticed the slip in his address — and 
 Harry took no notice of it. 
 
 " I shall be glad to meet the old brown again," he 
 
 [383]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 said, smiling. Mason gave the pair a benevolent glance 
 and withdrew to his quarters. 
 
 Mina strolled out of the library with an accidental 
 air. Harry had sat down to his sandwiches and old 
 brown. Cecily ran across to Mina and kissed her. 
 
 " We're going to be married ! " she whispered. She 
 had told it all in a sentence ; yet she added ; " Oh, I've 
 such a heap of things to tell you, Mina ! " Was not 
 all that scene in the Long Gallery to be reproduced — 
 doubtless only in a faint adumbration of its real glory, 
 yet with a sense of recovering it and living it again ? 
 
 " No ? " cried Mina. " Oh, how splendid ! Soon ? " 
 
 Harry threw a quick glance at Cecily. She respond- 
 ed by assuming a demure calmness of demeanor. 
 
 " Not as soon as we could wish," said Harry, munch- 
 ing and sipping. " In fact, not before the day after 
 to-morrow, I'm afraid, Madame Zabriska." 
 
 "The day after ?" 
 
 " What I have always hated is Government interfer- 
 ence. Why can't I be married when I like? Why 
 have I to get a license and all that nonsense? Why 
 must I wait till the day after to-morrow? " He grew 
 indignant. 
 
 " It's past twelve now ; it is to-morrow," said Cecily. 
 
 " Quite so. As you suggest, Cecily, we could be 
 marrTed to-day but for these absurd restrictions. 
 There's a train at eight from Fillingford " 
 
 " You're going — both of you — by that ? " Mina 
 cried. 
 
 " I hope it suits you, because we want you to come 
 with us, if you'll be so kind," said Harry. 
 
 '' You see it would look just a little unusual if we 
 went alone," added Cecily. 
 
 " And it's not going to look unusual anyhow? Are 
 you mad ? Or — or do you mean it ? " 
 ' " Don't you think both may be true? " asked Harry. 
 
 [384]
 
 Before Translation 
 
 Cecily's gravity broke down. She kissed Mina again, 
 laughing in an abandonment of exultation. 
 
 " Oh, you're both mad ! " 
 
 " Not at all. You're judging us by the standard of 
 your other engaged couple to-night." 
 
 " Did Mr Neeld know anything about your com- 
 ing?" ]\Iina demanded, with a sudden recollection. 
 
 " Nothing at all. Did he say anything to you ? " For 
 a moment the glass of old brown halted on its way to 
 his lips, and he glanced at Mina sharply. 
 
 " No. But when I asked him if he had seen you he 
 looked — well, just rather funny." 
 
 The old brown resumed its progress. Harry was 
 content. 
 
 " There's no better meal than fresh sandwiches and 
 old brown," he observed. " You'll come with us, won't 
 you, and keep Cecily company at the little house till 
 we fix it up? " 
 
 Mina looked from one to the other in new amaze- 
 ment, with all her old excited pleasure in the Tristram 
 ways. They did a thing — and they did not spoil it by 
 explanations. 
 
 " And Mr Gainsborough? " she asked. 
 
 " We're going to leave a note for father," smiled 
 Cecily. 
 
 " You're always doing that," objected Mina. 
 
 " It seems rather an early train for Mr Gains- 
 borough," Harry suggested, laying down his napkin. 
 
 " Oh, why don't you tell me something about it?" 
 cried Mina despairingly. " But it's true ? The great 
 thing's true anyhow, isn't it? " 
 
 " Well, what do you think I came down from town 
 for?" inquired Harry. 
 
 " And why have we been so Umg in the Gallery. 
 Mina?" 
 
 [385]
 
 Tristram ^Blent 
 
 " You've given in then? " exclaimed the Imp, point- 
 ing a finger in triumph at Harry. 
 
 " Mina, how can you say a thing like that? " 
 
 " It looks as if it were true enough," admitted Harry. 
 " Really I must go," he added. " I can't keep that fly 
 all night. I shall see you in the morning, Madame 
 Zabriska. Eight o'clock at Fillingford ! " 
 
 " I'm really to go with you?" she gasped. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I thought all that was settled," said he, 
 rather impatiently. " Bring a pretty frock. I want my 
 wedding to be done handsomely — in a style that suits 
 
 the wedding of " He looked at Cecily — " of Lady 
 
 Tristram of Blent." 
 
 " Cecily, it's not all a joke ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " cried Cecily. " All a delicious delicious 
 joke ! But we're going to be married." 
 
 After a moment's hesitation Mina came across to 
 Harry, holding out her hands. " I'm glad, I'm so 
 glad," she murmured, with a little catch in her voice. 
 
 He took her hands and pressed them ; he looked at 
 her very kindly, though he smiled still. 
 
 "Yes, it undoes all the mistakes, doesn't it?" he 
 said. " At least I hope it will," he added the next mo- 
 ment with a laugh. 
 
 " It's really the only way to be married," declared 
 Cecily. 
 
 " Well, for you people — for you extraordinary 
 Tristrams — I dare say it is," said Mina. 
 
 '' You'll come ? " Cecily implored. 
 
 " She couldn't keep away," mocked Harry, " She's 
 got to see the end of us." 
 
 " Yes, and our new beginning. Oh, what Blent's 
 going to be, Mina ! If you don't come with us now, we 
 won't let you stay at Merrion." 
 
 " I'm coming," said Mina. Indeed she would not 
 
 [386]
 
 Before Translation 
 
 have stayed away. If she had needed further induce- 
 ment the next moment suppHed it. 
 
 " You're to be our only confidant/' said Harry. 
 
 " Yes ! Till it's all over, nobody's to know but you, 
 Mina." 
 
 The Imp was hit on her weak spot. She was tremu- 
 lously eager to go. 
 
 " Eight o'clock ! Oh, can we be ready, Cecily? " 
 
 " Of course we shall be ready," said Cecily scorn- 
 fully. 
 
 Harry had taken his hat from the table and came up 
 to shake hands. He was imperturbably calm and 
 business-like. 
 
 " Don't run it too fine," he said. " Good-night, Ma- 
 dame Zabriska.'' 
 
 She gave him her hand and he held it for a moment. 
 He grew a little grave, but there w'as still a twinkle in 
 his eye. 
 
 " You're a good friend," he said. " I shall come on 
 you again, if I want you, you know." He raised her 
 hand to his lips and kissed it. 
 
 " I don't know that I care much about anything ex- 
 cept you two," stammered Mina. 
 
 He gripped her hand again. She seemed well paid. 
 He held out his hand to Cecily. Mina understood. 
 
 " I shall be up a little while, Cecily. Come to me 
 before you go to bed," she said ; and she stood in the 
 hall, watching them as they walked out together. 
 There was joy in her heart — ay, and envy. The two 
 brought tears to her eyes and struggled which should 
 make the better claim to them. " But they do like 
 me ! " she said in a plaintive yet glad little cry, as she 
 was left alone in the silent old hall. 
 
 So still was the night that a man might hear the 
 voice of his heart and a girl the throb of hers. And 
 they were alone ; or only the friendly murmur of old 
 
 [387]
 
 Tristram ^/ Blent 
 
 Blent was with them, seeming to whisper congratu- 
 lations on their joy. Her arm was through his, very 
 white on his sleeve, and she leant on him heavily. 
 
 " After tempests, dear," said he. 
 
 " There shall be no more, no more, Harry." 
 
 " Oh, I don't know that. I shall like you in them 
 perhaps. And there may be one more, anyhow." 
 
 " You're laughing, Harry ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, at anything just now." 
 
 " Yes, at anything," she murmured. " I could laugh 
 — or cry — at anything just now." 
 
 They came to the little bridge and passed on to it. 
 
 " We talked here the first evening," said she. " And 
 how you puzzled me ! It began for me then, dear 
 Harry." 
 
 " Yes, and for me a little sooner — by the Pool for 
 me. I was keeping you out of your own then." 
 
 " Never mine unless it could be yours too." 
 
 Fallen into silence again, they reached the road and, 
 moved by the same instinct, turned to look back at 
 Blent. The grip of her hand tightened on his arm. 
 
 " There's nothing that would make you leave me? " 
 she whispered. 
 
 " Not you yourself, I think," said he. 
 
 " It's very wonderful," she breathed. " Listen ! 
 There's no sound. Yes, after tempests, Harry ! " 
 
 " I am glad of it all," he said suddenly and in a louder 
 tone. " I've been made a man, and I've found you, the 
 woman for me. It was hard at the time, but I am 
 glad of it. It has come and it has gone, and I'm glad 
 of it." 
 
 He had spoken unwarily in saying it was gone. But 
 she thought he spoke of his struggle only and his hesi- 
 tation, not of their cause. 
 
 " You gave when you might have kept ; it is always 
 
 [388]
 
 Before Translation 
 
 yours, Harry. Oh, and what is it all now? No, no, 
 it's something still. It's in us — in us both, I 
 think." 
 
 He stopped on the road. 
 
 " Come no farther. The fly's only a little wav on, 
 and while I see you, I will see nobody else to-night. 
 Till the morning, dearest — and you won't fail ? " 
 
 " No, I won't fail. Should I fail to greet my first 
 morning? " 
 
 He pushed the hair a little back from her forehead 
 and kissed her brow. 
 
 " God do so unto me and more also if my love ever 
 fails yon," said he. " Kiss me as I kissed you. And so 
 good-night." 
 
 She obeyed and let him go. Once and twice he 
 looked back at her as he took his way and she stood 
 still on the road. She heard his voice speaking to the 
 flyman, the flyman's exhortation to his horse, the 
 sounds of the wheels receding along the road. Then 
 slowly she went back. 
 
 " This is what they mean," she murmured to herself. 
 " This is what they mean." It was the joy past ex- 
 pression, the contentment past understanding. And 
 all in one evening they had sprung up for her out of 
 a barren thirsty land. Blent had never been beautiful 
 before nor the river sparkled as it ran ; youth was 
 not known before, and beauty had been thrown away. 
 The world was changed ; and it was very wonderful. 
 
 When Cecily went into her the Imp was packing; 
 with critical care she stowed her smartest frock in the 
 trunk. 
 
 " I must be up early and see about the carriage," 
 
 she remarked. " I dare say Mason . But you're 
 
 not listening, Cecily ! " 
 
 " No, I wasn't listening," said Cecily, scorning 
 apologv or excuse.
 
 Tristram z^/ Blent 
 
 " You people in love are very silly. That's the plain 
 English of it," observed Mina loftily. 
 
 Cecily looked at her a minute, then stretched her 
 arms and sighed in luxurious weariness. " I dare say 
 that's the plain English of it," she admitted. " But, oh, 
 how dififerent it sounds before translation, dear ! " 
 
 [390]
 
 XXVIII 
 
 The Cat and the Bell 
 
 MR GAINSBOROUGH lost his head. He 
 might have endured the note that had been 
 left for him — it said only that his daughter 
 had gone to town for a couple of days with Mina Za- 
 briska; besides he had had notes left for him before. 
 But there was Mason's account of the evening and of 
 the morning — of Harry's arrival, of the conference in 
 the Long Gallery, of the sandwiches and the old brown, 
 of the departure of the ladies at seven o'clock. Mason 
 was convinced that something was up; knowing Mr 
 Harry as he did, and her late Ladyship as he had, he 
 really would not like to hazard an opinion what ; Mr 
 Gainsborough, however, could see for himself that can- 
 dles had been left to burn themselves out and that china 
 had been broken in the Long Gallery. Availing him- 
 self dexterously of his subordinate position, Mason was 
 open to state facts but respectfully declined to draw 
 inferences. Gainsborough rushed off to the Long 
 Gallery. There lay his bit of Chelsea on the floor — 
 upset, smashed, not picked up ! There must have been 
 a convulsion indeed, he declared, as ruefully and 
 tenderly he gathered the fragments. 
 
 Quite off his balance and forgetful of perils, he or- 
 dered the pony-chaise and had himself driven into 
 Blentmouth. He felt that he must tell somebody, and 
 borrow some conclusions — he was not equal to mak- 
 ing any of his own. He must carry the news. 
 
 He deceived himself and did gross injustice to the 
 neighborhood. Fillingford is but twelve miles inland 
 
 [391 J
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 from Blentmouth, and there are three hours between 
 eight and eleven. He was making- for Fairhohne. 
 While yet half a mile off he overtook Miss Swinkerton, 
 heading in the same direction, ostentatiously laden 
 with savings-bank books. With much decision she 
 requested a lift, got in, and told him all about how 
 Harry had escorted Cecily and Madame Zabriska from 
 Fillingford that morning. The milkman had told the 
 butcher, the butcher had told the postman, the post- 
 man had told her, and — well, she had mentioned it to 
 Mrs Trumbler. Mrs Trumbler w'as at Fairholme now. 
 
 " Mr Tristram had been staying with you, of course ? 
 How nice to think there's no feeling of soreness ! " ob- 
 served Miss S. 
 
 In Gainsborough at least there was no feeling save 
 of bewilderment. 
 
 " Staying with us ? No, I haven't so much as seen 
 him," he stammered out. 
 
 Immediately Miss S. was upon him, and by the time 
 they reached Fairholme had left him with no more 
 than a few rags of untold details. Then with unrivalled 
 effrontery she declared that she had forgotten to call 
 at the srrocer's, and marched ofT. In an hour the new 
 and complete version of the affair was all over the 
 town. Mrs Trumbler had got first to Fairholme, but 
 she did not wrest the laurels from Miss S.'s brow. The 
 mere departure from Fillingford shrank to nothing in 
 comparison with the attendant circumstances suppUed 
 by Mr Gainsborough. 
 
 '' They don't know what to think at Fairholme," Mrs 
 Trumbler reported. 
 
 " I dare say not, my dear," said Miss S. grimly. 
 
 " They were dining there that very night, and not a 
 word w^as said about it; and none of them saw Mr 
 Tristram. He came quite suddenly, and went off again 
 with Lady Tristram." 
 
 [392]
 
 The C a t a n i:> t he Bell 
 
 " And Mina Zabriska, my dear." 
 
 Mina complicated the case. Those who were inclined 
 to believe, against all common-sense, that Cecily had 
 eloped with her cousin — Why, in heaven's name, elope, 
 when you have all the power and a negHgible parent ? 
 — sturnbled over Mina. Well then, was it with Mina 
 Harry had eloped? Miss S. threw out hints in this 
 direction. Why then Cecily? Miss S. was not at a 
 loss. She said nothing, no ; but if it should turn out 
 that Cecily's presence was secured as .a. protection 
 against the wrath of Major Duplay (who, everybody 
 knew, hated Harry), she, Miss S., would be less sur- 
 prised than many of those who conceived themselves 
 to know everything. A Cecily party and a Mina party 
 grew up — and a third party, who would have none of 
 either, and declared that they had their own ideas, and 
 that time would show. 
 
 Gossip raged, and old Mr Neeld sat in the middle of 
 the conflagration. How his record of evasion, nay, of 
 downright falsehood, mounted up ! False facts and 
 fictitious reasons flowed from his lips. There was 
 pathos in the valor with w'hich he maintained his po- 
 sition ; he was hard pressed, but he did not fall. There 
 was a joy too in the fight. For he alone of all Blent- 
 mouth knew the great secret, and guessed that what 
 was happening had to do with the secret. Harry had 
 asked silence for a week ; before two days of it were 
 gone came this news. 
 
 " If they do mean to be married," said Janie, " why 
 couldn't they do it decently?" She meant with the 
 respectable deliberation of her own alliance. 
 
 " Tristram's a queer fellow," pondered Bob Broad- 
 ley. 
 
 " I only hope he isn't rushing her into it — on pur- 
 pose. What do you think, Mr Kecld? " 
 
 " My dear Janie " 
 
 1 393 J
 
 Tristram ^y^ Blent 
 
 " He may not want to give her time to think. It's 
 not a good match for her now, is it? " 
 
 " I — I can't think that Harry Tristram would " 
 
 " Well, Neeld," said Iver judicially, " I'm not so sure. 
 Master Harry can play a deep game when he likes. I 
 know that very well — and to my cost too." 
 
 What Janie hinted and Iver did not discard was a 
 view which found some supporters ; and where it was 
 entertained, poor Mina Zabriska's character was gone. 
 Miss S. herself was all but caught by the idea, and went 
 so far as to say that she had never thought highly of 
 Madame Zabriska, while the Major was known to be 
 impecunious. There was a nefariousness about the 
 new suggestion that proved very attractive in Blent- 
 mouth. 
 
 Late in the day came fresh tidings, new fuel for the 
 flames. Mr Gainsborough had driven again into Blent- 
 mouth and taken the train for London. Two port- 
 manteaus and a wicker-crate, plausibly conjectured to 
 contain between them all his worldly possessions, had 
 accompanied him on the journey. He was leaving 
 Blent then, if not for ever, at least for a long while. He 
 had evaded notice in his usual fashion, and nearly 
 driven over Miss S. when she tried to get in the way. 
 Miss S. was partly consoled by a bit of luck that fol- 
 lowed. She met Mina's cook, come down from Merrion 
 to buy household stores ; her mistress was to return 
 to her own house on the morrow ! There seemed no 
 need to search for inferences. They leapt to light. 
 Either Blent was to be shut up, or it was to receive a 
 wedded pair. On this alternative the factions split, and 
 the battle was furious. Mrs Trumbler definitely fought 
 Miss S. for the first time in her life. On one point only 
 the whole town agreed ; it was being cheated — either 
 out of the wedding which was its right, or else out of 
 the ball in the winter to which Miss S. had irrevocably 
 
 [394]
 
 The Cat and the Bell 
 
 committed Lady Tristram. The popularity of Blent 
 fell to nothing in the neighborhood. 
 
 The next morning Mr Neeld gained the reward of 
 virtue, and became a hero in spite of his discretion. At 
 breakfast he received a telegram. Times were critical, 
 and all eyes were on him as he read, and re-read, and 
 frowned perplexedly. Then he turned to Iver. 
 
 " Can you let me have a trap this afternoon, Iver ? " 
 
 " Of course, of course. But you're not going to leave 
 us, I hope? " 
 
 *' Only just for the evening; I — in fact 1 have to go 
 to Blent." 
 
 There was a moment's siience. Glances were ex- 
 changed, while Neeld made half-hearted efforts to 
 grapple with an egg. Then Bob Broadley broke out 
 with a laugh, 
 
 " Oh, hang it all, out with it, Mr Neeld ! " 
 
 " Well, I'm not told to be silent ; and it must be- 
 come known immediately. Madame Zabriska tele- 
 graphs to me that they are to be married early this 
 morning, and will come to Blent by the 1.30 train. She 
 herself leaves by the 1 1 o'clock, will be there at five, 
 and wishes me to join her." 
 
 " By Jove, he's done it then ! " exclaimed Iver. 
 
 Everybody looked very solemn except Neeld, who 
 was sadly confused. 
 
 " Dear, dear ! " murmured Mrs Iver. 
 
 " She must be very much in love with him," re- 
 marked Janie. 
 
 " It's his conduct more than hers which needs ex- 
 planation," Iver observed dryly. " And what do they 
 want you for, Neeld?" If his tone and his question 
 were not very flattering, they were excused by the ob- 
 vious fact that there was no sort of reason for wanting 
 Mr Neeld — or at any rate seemed to all that party to 
 be none. 
 
 [395]
 
 Tristram ^^/^ Blent 
 
 " Oh — er — why — why no doubt it's — it's only a fancy 
 of Mina Zabriska's." 
 
 " A very queer fancy," said Janie Iver coldly. It was 
 really a little annoying that old Mr Neeld should be 
 the person wanted at Blent. 
 
 " ril drive you over," Bob kindly volunteered. 
 
 " Er — thank you, Broadley, but she asks me to come 
 alone." 
 
 " Well, I'm hanged! " muttered Bob, who had seen 
 a chance of being in at the death. 
 
 They were coming straight down to Blent. That 
 fact assumed an important place in Neeld's review of 
 the situation. And his presence was requested. He 
 put these two things together. They must mean that 
 the secret was to be told that evening at Blent, and that 
 he was to be vouched as evidence, if by chance Cecily 
 asked for it. On the very day of the wedding the truth 
 was to be revealed. In ignorance, perhaps in her own 
 despite, she had been made in reality what she had 
 conceived herself to be ; to-day she was Lady Tris- 
 tram in law. Now she was to be told. Neeld saw the 
 choice that would be laid before her, and, at the same 
 time, the use that had been made of his silence. He 
 fell into a sore puzzle. Yes, Harry could play a deep 
 game when he chose. 
 
 " It's quite impossible to justify either the use he's 
 made of me or the way he's treated her," he concluded 
 sadly. " I shall speak very seriously to him about it." 
 But he knew that the serious speaking, however com- 
 forting it might be to himself as a protest, would fall 
 very hghtly on Harry Tristram's ears ; their listening 
 would be for the verdict of another voice. 
 
 " Do you think Disney will repeat his ofifer — will give 
 him a chance of reconsidering now ? " asked Iver, who 
 had heard of that affair from Lord Southend.. 
 
 " I'm sure he wouldn't accept anything," Neeld an- 
 
 [396]
 
 The Cat and the Bell 
 
 swered with remarkable promptitude and conviction. 
 It was a luxury to find an opportunity of speaking the 
 truth. 
 
 " The least he could do would be to leave that to 
 her." 
 
 " She'd say just the same," Neeld assured him. " I'm 
 convinced there'll be no question of anything of the 
 kind." 
 
 " Then it's very awkward," Iver grumbled crossly. 
 
 In all his varied experience of the Imp — which in- 
 cluded, it may be remembered, a good deal of plain- 
 speaking and one embrace — Neeld had never found her 
 in such a state as governed her this evening. Mason 
 gave him tea while she walked restlessly about; he 
 gathered that Mason was dying to talk but had been 
 sore w^ounded in an encounter with Mina already, and 
 was now perforce holding his tongue. 
 
 " They'll be here by seven, and you and I are to dine 
 with them," she told him. " Quite informally." 
 
 " Dear me, I — I don't think I want " he began. 
 
 " Hush ! " she interrupted. " Are you going to be 
 all day with those things, Mason ? " 
 
 " I hope I haven't been slower than usual, ma'am," 
 said Mason very stiffly. 
 
 At last he went. In an instant Mina darted across 
 to Neeld, and caught him by the arm. " What have 
 you to tell me ? " she cried. 
 
 " To tell you ? I ? Oh, dear, no, Madame Zabriska ! 
 I assure you " 
 
 " Oh, there's no need for that ! Harry said you were 
 to tell me before they arrived ; that's why I sent for 
 you now." 
 
 " He said I was to tell you ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes. Something you knew and I didn't; 
 something that would explain it all." 
 
 She stood before liim with clasped hands. " It's 
 
 [397 J
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 quite true ; he did say so," she pleaded. " It's all been 
 so delightful, and yet so strange ; and he told me to 
 be ready either to stav here or to go home to-night ! 
 Tell me, tell me, Mr Neeld ! " 
 
 " Why didn't he tell you himself? " 
 
 " I only saw him alone for an instant after the wed- 
 ding; and before it he didn't say a word about there 
 being anything to tell. There's a secret. What is it?" 
 
 He was glad to tell it. He had carried his burden 
 long enough. 
 
 " We've all made a great blunder. Harry is Lord 
 Tristram after all." 
 
 Mina stood silent for a moment. " Oh ! " she 
 gasped. " And he's married Cecily without telHng 
 her?" 
 
 " That's what he has done, I regret to say. And I 
 take it that he means to tell her to-night." 
 
 Mina sank into a chair. " What will she do ? " she 
 murmured. " What will she do ? " 
 
 " There was a mistake — or rather a fraud — about the 
 date of Sir Randolph Edge's death ; his brother knew 
 it. I'll tell you the details if you like. But that's the 
 end and the sum of it. As to why he didn't tell — er — 
 his wife sooner, perhaps you know better than I." 
 
 " Yes, I know that," she said. And then — it was 
 most inconsiderate, most painful to Mr Neeld — she 
 began to cry. Unable to bear this climax of excitement 
 coming on the top of her two days' emotion, she sobbed 
 hysterically. " They'll be here at seven ! " she moaned. 
 "What will happen? Oh, Mr Neeld! And I know 
 he'll expect me to be calm and — and to carry it off — 
 and be composed. How can I be ? " 
 
 " Perhaps a glass of sherry ? " was Mr Neeld's 
 
 not unreasonable suggestion. 
 
 No, the old brown would not serve here. But with- 
 out its aid a sudden change came over Mina. She 
 
 [398]
 
 The Cat and the Bell 
 
 sprang to her feet and left the tears to roll down h«r 
 cheeks untended as she cried, 
 
 " What a splendid thing to do ! Oh, how like Harry ! 
 And it's to be settled to-night! What can we do to 
 make it go right ? " 
 
 " I intend to take no responsibility at all." protested 
 Neeld. " I'm here to speak to the facts if I'm wanted, 
 but " 
 
 " Oh, bother the facts ! What are we to do to make 
 her take it properly? " She gave another sob. "Oh, 
 I'm an idiot! " she cried. " Haven't you anything to 
 suggest, Mr Neeld ? " 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders peevishly. Her spirits 
 fell again. 
 
 " I see ! Yes, if she — if she doesn't take it properly, 
 he'll go away again, and I'm to be ready to stay here." 
 Another change in the barometer came in a flash. 
 " But she can't help being Lady Tristram now ! " 
 
 " It's all a most unjustifiable proceeding. He tricks 
 the girl " 
 
 " Yes, he had to. That was the only chance. If 
 he'd told her before " 
 
 " But isn't she in love with him? " 
 
 " Oh, you don't know the Tristrams ! Oh, what are 
 we to do?" Save running through every kind and 
 degree of emotion Mina seemed to find nothing to do. 
 
 " And I'm bound to say that I consider our position 
 most embarrassing." Mr Neeld spoke with some 
 warmth, with some excuse too perhaps. To welcome a 
 newly married couple home may be thought always 
 to require some tact ; when it is a toss-up whether they 
 will not part again for ever under your very eyes the 
 situation is not improved. Such trials should not be 
 inflicted on quiet old bachelors; Josiah Cholderton 
 had not done with his editor yet. 
 
 " We must treat it as a mere trifle," the Imp an- 
 
 [399]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 nounced, fixing on the thing which above all others 
 she could not achieve. Yet her manner was so con- 
 fident that Neeld gasped. "And if that doesn't do, 
 we must tell her that the happiness of her whole life 
 depends on what she does to-night." Variety of treat- 
 ment was evidently not to be lacking. 
 
 " I intend to take no responsibility of any kind. He's 
 got himself into a scrape. Let him get out of it," per- 
 sisted Neeld. 
 
 " I thought you were his friend ? " 
 
 " I may be excused if I consider the ladv a little 
 too." 
 
 '* I suppose I don't care for Cecily? Do you mean 
 that, Mr Neeld?" 
 
 " My dear friend, need we quarrel too ? " 
 
 "Don't be stupid. Who's quarrelling? I never 
 knew anybody so useless as you are. Can't you do 
 anything but sit there and talk about responsibilities ? " 
 She was ranging about, a diminutive tiger of unusually 
 active habits. She had wandered round the room again 
 before she burst out : 
 
 " Oh, but it's something to see the end of it ! " 
 
 That was his feeling too, however much he might 
 rebuke himself for it. Human life at first-hand had 
 not been too plentiful with him. The Imp's excitement 
 infected him. " And he's back here after all ! " she 
 cried. " At least — Heavens, they'll be here directlv, 
 Mr Neeld ! " 
 
 " Yes, it's past seven," said he. 
 
 " Come into the garden. We'll wait for them on the 
 bridge." She turned to him as they passed through the 
 hall. " Wouldn't you like something of this sort to 
 happen to you? " she asked. 
 
 No. He was perturbed enough as a spectator; he 
 would not have been himself engaged in the play. 
 
 " Why isn't everybody here ? " she demanded, with a 
 
 [400]
 
 The Cat and the Bell 
 
 laugh that was again nervous and almost hysterical. 
 " Wliy isn't Addie Tristram here ? Ah, and your old 
 Cholderton?" 
 
 *' Hark, I hear wheels on the road," said Mr Neeld. 
 
 Mina looked hard at him. " She shall do right," she 
 said, " and Harry shall not go." 
 
 " Surely they'll make the best of a ? " 
 
 " Oh, we're not talking of your Ivers and your 
 Broadleys ! " she interrupted indignantly. " If they 
 were like that, we should never have been where we 
 are at all." 
 
 How true it was, how lamentably true ! One had to 
 presuppose Addie Tristram, and turns of fortune or of 
 chance wayward as Addie herself — and to reckon with 
 the same blood, now in young and living veins. 
 
 " I can't bear it," whispered Alina. 
 
 " He'll expect you to be calm and composed," Neeld 
 reminded her. 
 
 " Then give me a cigarette," she implored despair- 
 ingly. 
 
 " I am not a smoker," said Mr Neeld. 
 
 " Oh, you really are the very last man ! Well, 
 
 come on the bridge," groaned Mina. 
 
 They waited on the bridge, and the wheels drew 
 near. They spoke no more. They had found nothing 
 to do. They could only wait. A fly came down the 
 road. 
 
 There they sat, side by side. Cecily was leaning 
 forward, her eyes were eager, and there was a bright 
 touch of color on her cheeks ; Harry leant back, look- 
 ing at her, not at Blent. He wore a quiat smile; his 
 air was very calm. He saw Mina and Neeld, and waved 
 his hand to them. The fly stopped opposite tlie bridge. 
 He jumped out and assisted Cecily to alight. In a 
 moment she was in Mina's arms. The next, she recog- 
 nized Neeld's presence with a little cry of surprise. At 
 
 [401 J
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 a loss to account for himself, the old man stood there in 
 embarrassed wretchedness. 
 
 " I want you to wait," said Harry to the driver. " Put 
 up in the stables, and they'll give you something to eat. 
 You must wait till I send you word." 
 
 " Wait ? Why is he to wait, Harry ? " asked Cecily. 
 Her tone was gay ; she was overflowing with joy and 
 merriment. '* Who's going away ? Oh, is it you, Mr 
 Neeld?" 
 
 " I — I have a trap from Mr Iver's," he stammered. 
 
 " I may want to send a message," Harry explained. 
 ** Kind of you to come, Mr Neeld." 
 
 " I — I must wish you joy," said Neeld, taking refuge 
 in conventionality. 
 
 " We've had a capital journey down, haven't we, 
 Cecily? And I'm awfully hungry. What time is it? " 
 
 JNIason was rubbing his hands in the doorway. 
 
 " Dinner's ordered at eight, sir," said he. 
 
 " And it's half-past seven now. Just time to wash 
 our hands. No dress to-night, you know." 
 
 " I'll go to my room," said Cecily. " Will you come 
 with me, Mina ? " 
 
 A glance from Harry made the Imp excuse herself. 
 " I'll keep Mr Neeld company," she said. 
 
 Cecily turned to her husband. She smiled and 
 blushed a little. 
 
 *' I'll take you as far as your room," said he. 
 
 Mina and Neeld watched them go upstairs ; then 
 each dropped into a chair in the hall. Mason passed 
 by, chuckling to himself; Neeld looked harmless, and 
 he dared to speak to him. 
 
 " Well, this is the next best thing to Mr Harry com- 
 ing back to his own, sir," said he. 
 
 That was it. That was the feeling. Mason had got 
 it! 
 
 " I'm glad of it after all," Neeld confessed to Mina. 
 
 [402]
 
 The Cat and the Bell 
 
 " Wait, wait ! " she urged, sitting straight in her 
 chair, apparently Hstening for any sound. Her obvious 
 anxiety extended its contagion to him ; he understood 
 better how nice the issue was. 
 
 " Will you come in the garden with me after dinner? " 
 asked Harry, as Cecily and he went upstairs. 
 
 " Of course — when they've gone." 
 
 " No, directly. I want to say a word to you." 
 
 " We must escape then ! " she laughed. "' Oh, well, 
 they'll expect that, I suppose." Her delight in her 
 love bubbled over in her laugh. 
 
 They came to the door of her room, and she stopped. 
 
 " Here? " asked Harry. " Yes, it was my mother's 
 room. You reign now in my mother's stead." 
 
 His voice had a ring of triumph in it. He kissed her 
 hand. " Dinner as soon as you're ready," said he. 
 
 She laughed again and blushed as she opened the 
 door and stood holding the handle. 
 
 "Won't you come in — just for a minute, Harry? 
 I — I haven't changed this room at all." 
 
 " All is yours to change or to keep unchanged," said 
 he. 
 
 " Oh, I've no reason for changing anything now. 
 Everything's to be put back in the Long Gallery!" 
 She paused, and then said again. " ^^"on't you come in 
 for just a minute, Harry? " 
 
 " I must go back to our friends downstairs," he 
 answered. 
 
 The pretext was threadbare, \\niat did the guests 
 matter? They would do well enough. It had cost her 
 something to ask — a little effort — since the request 
 still seemed so strange, since its pleasure had a fear in 
 it. And now she was refused. 
 
 " I ask you," she said, with a sudden haughtiness. 
 
 He stood looking at her a moment. There was a 
 brisk step along the corridor. 
 
 [403]
 
 Tristram (J/^ Blent 
 
 " Oh, I beg your Ladyship's pardon. I didn't know 
 your Ladyship had come upstairs." It was Cecily's 
 maid. 
 
 " In about twenty minutes," said Harry with a nod. 
 Slowly Cecily followed the maid inside. 
 
 After he had washed his hands Harry rejoined his 
 friends. They were still sitting in the hall with an air 
 of expectancy. 
 
 "You've told her?" cried Mina. "Oh, yes, Mr 
 Neeld has told me everything-." 
 
 "Well, I've mentioned the bare fact " Neeld 
 
 began. 
 
 " Yes, yes, that's the only thing that matters. You've 
 told her, Harrv ? " The last two davs made him 
 " Harry " and her " Mina." 
 
 " No, I had a chance and I — funked it," said Harry, 
 slow in speech and slow in smile. " She asked me into 
 her room. Well, I wouldn't go." 
 
 He laughed as he spoke, laughed rather scorn- 
 fully. 
 
 " It's rather absurd. I shall be all right after dinner," 
 he added, laughing still. " Or would you like to do 
 the job for me, Mina? " 
 
 The Imp shook her head with immense deter- 
 mination. " I'll throw myself into the Blent if you 
 like," she said. 
 
 " What about you, Mr Neeld? " 
 
 " My dear friend, oh, my dear friend ! " Un- 
 disguised panic took possession of Mr Neeld. He 
 tried to cover it by saying sternly, " This — er — pre- 
 posterous position is entirely your own fault, you know. 
 You have acted " 
 
 " Yes, I know," nodded Harry, not impatiently but 
 with a sombre assent. He roused himself the next 
 moment, saying, " Well, somebody's got to bell the 
 cat, you know." 
 
 [404]
 
 The Cat and the Bell 
 
 " Really it's not my business," protested Neeld and 
 Mina in one breath, both laughing nervously. 
 
 " You like the fun, but you don't want any of the 
 work," remarked Harry. 
 
 That was true, true to their disgrace. They both felt 
 the reproach. How were they better than the rest of 
 the neighborhood, who were content to gossip and 
 gape and take the fortunes of the Tristrams as mere 
 matter for their own entertainment ? 
 
 " I've made you look ashamed of yourselves now," 
 he laughed. " Well, I must do the thing myself, I 
 suppose. What a pity Miss Swinkerton isn't here ! " 
 
 Cecily came down. She passed Harry with a rather 
 distant air and took Neeld's arm. 
 
 " They say dinner's ready," said she. " Mina, will 
 you come with Harry? " 
 
 Harry sank into the chair opposite Cecily — and op- 
 posite the picture of Addie Tristram on the wall. 
 " Well, somehow I've managed to get back here," said 
 he. 
 
 The shadow had passed from Cecily's face. She 
 looked at him, blushing and laughing. 
 
 " At a terrible price, poor Harry? " she said. 
 
 " At a big price," he answered. 
 
 She looked round at the three. Harry was com- 
 posed, but there was no mistaking the perturbation of 
 the Imp and Mr Neeld. 
 
 " A big price ? " she asked wonderingly. " Isn't that 
 a queer compliment, Harry? " Then a light seemed to 
 break in on her, and she cried : " You mean the cost 
 of your pride ? I should never let that stand between 
 you and me ! " 
 
 " Will you make a note of that admission, Mina? " 
 said Harry with a smile. " Because you didn't say so 
 always, Cecily. Do you recollect what you once said ? 
 
 i405j
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 ' If ever the time comes, I shall remember ! ' That was 
 what you said." 
 
 She looked at him with a glance that was suddenly 
 troubled. There seemed a meaning in his words. She 
 pushed back her chair and rose from the table. 
 
 " I don't want dinner. I'm going into the garden," 
 she said. 
 
 They sat still as she went out. Harry refolded his 
 napkin and slowly rose to his feet. " I should have 
 liked it better after dinner," he observed. 
 
 Mina and Mr Xeeld sat on. 
 
 " Are we to dine ? " whispered Neeld. There is the 
 body, after all. 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir," came in Mason's soothing tones over 
 his shoulder. " We never waited for her late Lady- 
 ship." And he handed soup. 
 
 " Really Mason is rather a comfort," thought Mr 
 Neeld. The Imp drank a glass of champagne. 
 
 [406]
 
 XXIX 
 
 The Curmudgeon 
 
 IN his most business-like tones, with no more 
 gesture than a pointing of his finger now and then, 
 or an occasional wave of his hand, Harry detailed 
 the circumstances. He was methodical and accurate ; 
 he might have been opening a case in the law-courts, 
 and would have earned a compliment on his lucidity. 
 There was something ludicrous in this treatment of 
 the matter, but he remained very grave, although quite 
 unemotional. 
 
 " What was my position then ? " he asked. " I re- 
 membered what you'd said. I saw the pull I'd given 
 you. If I'd told you before, you'd have had nothing to 
 do with me. You'd have taken a tragic delight in going 
 back to your little house. I should have given you 
 your revenge." 
 
 " So you cheated me ? It shows the sort of person 
 you are ! " 
 
 He went on as though he had not heard her in- 
 dignant ejaculation. 
 
 " I had fallen in love with you — with you and with 
 the idea of your being here. I couldn't have anybody 
 else at Blent, and I had to have you. It was impossible 
 for me to turn you out. I don't think it would have 
 been gentlemanly." 
 
 " It was more gentlemanly to marry me on false pre- 
 tences ? " 
 
 " Well, perhaps not, but a form of ungentleman- 
 liness less repulsive to me — Oh, just to me personally. 
 I don't know whether you quite understand yet why I 
 
 [407]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 gave up Blent to yon. Jnst the same feeling has made 
 me do this — with the addition, of course, that I'm more 
 in love with you now." 
 
 " I don't believe it, or you'd have trusted me — trusted 
 my love for you." 
 
 " I've trusted it enormously — trusted it to forgive 
 me this deceit." 
 
 " If you had come and told me " 
 
 " At the very best you'd have taken months." 
 
 " And you couldn't wait for me? " 
 
 " Well, waiting's a thing I detest." 
 
 " Oh, I've made up my mind," she declared. " I shall 
 go back to town to-night." 
 
 " No, no, that's not it." Harry did not want the ar- 
 rangement misunderstood. " If we can't agree, I go 
 back to town — not you. I kept my fly." 
 
 " You needn't make fun of it anyhow." 
 
 " I'm not. I'm quite serious. You stay here, I 
 go away. I accept this post abroad — the Arbitration 
 business. I've got to send an answer about it to- 
 morrow." J 
 
 " No, I shall go. I'm resolved upon it. I won t 
 
 stay here." 
 
 " Then we must shut the place up, or pull it down, 
 said Harry. " It will look absurd, but— Well, we never 
 consider the neighbors." For the first time he seemed 
 vexed. " I did count on your staying here," he 
 explained. ^ , ^^ 
 
 " I can never forgive you for deceiving me.' 
 •' You said you wouldn't let your pride stand between 
 
 us." 
 
 " It's not my pride. It's — it's the revelation of what 
 you are, and what you'll stoop to do, to gain ! " 
 
 " What have I gained yet? " he asked. " Only what 
 you choose to give me now ! " 
 
 She looked at him for a moment. The little sc^ne 'n 
 
 [408]
 
 The Curmudgeon 
 
 the corridor upstairs came back to her. So that was 
 the meaning of it ! 
 
 " I've taken your freedom from you. That's true. In 
 return I've given you Blent. I did the best I could." 
 
 " Oh, do you really delude yourself like that? What 
 you did was utter selfishness." 
 
 Harry sighed. They were not getting on prosper- 
 ously. 
 
 " Very well," he said. " We'll agree on that. 
 There's been a revelation of what I am. I don't — I 
 distinctly don't justify myself. It was a lie, a fraud." 
 
 " Yes," said Cecily, in a low but emphatic assent. 
 
 " I gained your consent by a trick, when you ought 
 to have been free to give or refuse it. I admit it all." 
 
 " And it has brought us to this! " She rose as she 
 spoke, a picture of indignation. " There's no use talk- 
 ing any more about it," said she. 
 
 He looked at her long and deliberately. He seemed 
 to weigh something in his mind, to ask whether he 
 should or should not say something. 
 
 " And you conclude that the sort of person I am 
 isn't fit to live with ? " he asked at last. 
 
 " I've told you what I've made up my mind to do. 
 I can't help whether you stay or go too. But I'm going 
 away from here, and going alone." 
 
 " Because I'm that sort of person? " 
 
 " Yes. If you like to put it that way, yes." 
 
 " Very well. But before you go, a word about you ! 
 Sit down, please." She obeyed his rather imperative 
 gesture. " I've been meek," he smiled. " I've admit- 
 ted all you said about me. And now, please, a word 
 about you ! " 
 
 " About me? What is there to say about me? Oh, 
 you're going back to that old story about my pride 
 again ! " 
 
 Once more he looked long at her face. It was flushed 
 
 [409J
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 and rebellions, it gave no hint of yielding to any 
 weapon that he had yet employed. 
 
 " I'm not going to speak of your pride, but of your 
 incredible meanness," said he. 
 
 " What ? " cried Cecily, rudely startled and sitting 
 bolt upright. 
 
 " There's no harm in plain speaking, since we're 
 going to part. Of your extraordinary meanness, Cecily 
 — and really it's not generally a fault of the Tris- 
 trams." 
 
 " Perhaps you'll explain yourself," she said, relapsing 
 into cold disdain, and leaning back again. 
 
 " I will. I mean to. Just look at the history of the 
 whole affair." He rose and stood opposite her, con- 
 straining her to look at him, although her attitude 
 professed a lofty indifference. " Here was I — in pos- 
 session ! I was safe. I knew I was safe. I wasas 
 convinced of my safety as I am even now — when it's 
 beyond question. Was I frightened? Ask Mina, ask 
 Duplay. Then you came. You know what I did. For 
 your sake, because you were what you are, because I 
 had begun to love you — yes, that's the truth of it — I 
 gave it all to you. Not this place only, but all I had. 
 Even my name — even my right to bear any name. 
 Nobody and nameless, I went out of this house for 
 you." 
 
 He paused a little, took a pace on the grass, and 
 returned to her. 
 
 " What ought you to have felt, what ought you to 
 have prayed then? " he asked. " Surely that it should 
 come back to me, that it should be mine again ? " 
 
 " I did," she protested, stirred to self-defence. " 1 
 was miserable. You know I was. I couldn't stay here 
 for the thought of you. I came to London. I came to 
 you, Harry. I offered it to you." 
 
 " It's you who are deceiving yourself now. Yes, you 
 
 1:410]
 
 The Curmudgeon 
 
 came and offered it to me. Did you want, did you 
 pray, that it might be mine again by no gift of yours 
 but by right ? Did you pray that the thing should hap- 
 pen which has happened now? That you should be 
 turned out and I should be put in? Back in my own 
 place, my proper place? That I should be Tristram 
 of Blent again ? Did you pray for that ? " 
 
 He paused, but she said nothing. Her face was 
 troubled now and her eyes could not leave his. 
 
 " You were ready to play Lady Bountiful to me, to 
 give of your charity, to make yourself feel very noble. 
 
 That was it. And now " His voice became more 
 
 vehement. " And now, look into your heart, look 
 close ! Look, look ! What's in your heart now ? You 
 say I've cheated you. It's true. Is that why you're 
 angry, is that why you won't live with me? No, by 
 heaven, not that, or anything of the kind ! Will you 
 have the truth ? " 
 
 Again she made no answer. She waited for his 
 words. 
 
 " Are you rejoiced that mine's my own again, that 
 I'm back in my place, that I'm Tristram of Blent, that 
 it belongs to me? That I take it by my own incontes- 
 table right and not of your hand, by your bounty and 
 your charity? Are you so rejoiced at that that you 
 can forgive me anything, forgive the man you love 
 anything? Yes, you do love me — You're welcome to 
 that, if you think it makes it any better. It seems to 
 me to make it worse. No, you can't forgive me any- 
 thing, you can't forgive the man you love ! Why not? 
 I'll tell you why ! Shall I ? Shall I go on ? " 
 
 She bowed her head and clasped her hands together. 
 
 " You hate my having come to my own again. You 
 hate its being mine by right and not by your bounty. 
 You hate being Lady Tristram only because I've 
 chosen to make you so. And because you hate that. 
 
 [411]
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 you won't forgive me, and you say you won't live with 
 me. Yes, you're angry because I've come to my own 
 again. You hate it. Look in your heart, I say, and 
 tell me that what I say isn't true, if you can." 
 
 She made no answer still. He came a step closer and 
 smote his fist on the palm of his other hand, as he 
 ended : 
 
 " You called me a liar. I was a liar. But, by God, 
 you're a curmudgeon, Cecily ! " 
 
 For a moment longer she looked at him, as he stood 
 there in his scornful anger. Then with a low moan 
 she hid her face in her hands. The next minute he 
 turned on his heel, left her where she sat, and strode 
 off into the house. 
 
 Mina and Neeld — now at their sweets — heard his 
 step and exchanged excited glances. He walked up to 
 the head of the table, to Cecily's chair, plumped down 
 into it, and called out to Mason, " Something to eat 
 and some champagne." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Mason in a flurry. 
 
 " Oh, by-the-bye, you can say ' my - Lord " again. 
 The lawyers blundered, and there's been a mistake." 
 
 The astonished Mason began to express felicitations. 
 Harry was petulantly short with him. 
 
 " Oh, shut up that, my dear man, and give me some 
 champagne." He drank a glass ofif and then observed, 
 " I hope you two have had a decent dinner? " He had 
 the manner of a host now. 
 
 " I — I hadn't much appetite," stammered Neeld. 
 
 " Well, I'm hungry anyhow," and he fell to on his 
 beef, having waved soup and fish aside impatiently. 
 " Tell them all downstairs what I've told you. Mason, 
 but for heaven's sake don't let there be any fuss. Oh, 
 and I suppose you'd better keep something hot for Lady 
 Tristram." 
 
 Mason's exit was hastened by the consciousness of 
 
 [412]
 
 The Curmudgeon 
 
 his commission. The moment he was gone Mina broke 
 out: 
 
 "Where's Cecily?" 
 
 " I left her on the lawn,'' said Harry, frowning hard 
 but eating heartily. 
 
 "You've told her?" 
 
 " Yes, I've told her." 
 
 " And what did she say ? " The Imp's utterance was 
 jerky from her perturbation. 
 
 "Look here, Mina, mightn't you go and ask her? 
 It's a long story, and I'm deuced hungry, you know." 
 
 Mina needed no further permission. She rose and 
 flew. Neeld, though uncertain what was expected of 
 him, sat on, nervously eating gooseberries — a fruit 
 which rarely agreed with him. Harry drank a second 
 glass of champagne and his brow relaxed, although he 
 was still thoughtful. 
 
 " I — I hope all has gone well ? " Neeld ventured to 
 inquire. 
 
 " I scarcely know. The interview took rather an 
 unexpected turn." He spoke as though the develop- 
 ment had surprised him and he could hardly trace how 
 it had come about. " The whole thing will be settled 
 very soon," he added. " Have a glass of port, Mr 
 Neeld? It'll do you more good than those goose- 
 berries." 
 
 Neeld laid a ready hand on the decanter, as he asked, 
 
 " Is — er — Lady Tristram not coming in to din- 
 ner?" 
 
 " Really I don't know. She didn't mention it." His 
 thoughts seemed elsewhere. " Was I wrong to tell 
 Mason to give me the title ? " he asked. " Ought I to 
 wait till I've formally established my claim? " 
 
 " Since it's quite clear, and there's no opposition 
 
 from — from the dispossessed claimant " Neeld 
 
 smiled feebly and sipped his port. 
 
 [413J
 
 Tristram ^ Blent 
 
 " That's what I thought ; and it's as well to put 
 things on a permanent basis as soon as possible. When 
 once that's done, we shall think less about all this 
 troublesome affair." He sat silent for a few minutes, 
 while Neeld finished his wine. " I'm going to have 
 some cheese. Don't you wait, Mr Neeld." 
 
 Old Neeld was glad to escape ; he could not under- 
 stand his host's mood and was uneasy in talk with him. 
 Moreover it seemed that the great question was being 
 decided in the garden and not in the dining-room. To 
 the garden then he betook himself. 
 
 Harry smoked a cigarette when his meal was done, 
 twisting his chair round so that he could see Addie 
 Tristram's picture. He reviewed his talk with Cecily, 
 trying to trace how that unexpected turn in it had come 
 about and at what point the weapon had sprung into 
 his hand. He had used it with effect — whether with 
 the effect he desired he did not yet know. But his use 
 of it had not been altogether a ruse or an artifice. His 
 sincerity, his vehemence, his very cruelty proved that. 
 He had spoken out a genuine resentment and a right- 
 eous reproach. Thence came the power to meet 
 Cecily's taunts in equal battle and to silence her charges 
 of deceit with his retort of meanness. 
 
 " And we were married to-day ! And we're dam- 
 nably in love with one another ! " he reflected. " I sup- 
 pose we should seem queer to some people." This was 
 a great advance toward an outside view of the family. 
 Certainly such an idea had never occurred to Addie ; 
 she had always done the only possible thing ! " Now 
 what will she do ? " 
 
 At least it did not seem as though she meant to have 
 any dinner. The fact would have meant much had a 
 man been concerned. With a woman it possessed no 
 more than a moderate significance. With a Tristram 
 v/oman perhaps it had none at all. A cigar succeeded 
 
 [414]
 
 The Curmudgeon 
 
 the cigarette in Harry's mouth, as he sat there looking 
 at his mother's picture and thinking of his wife. He 
 did not in the least regret that she was his wife or that 
 he had Hed. Any scruples that he ever had on that 
 score he had removed for himself by realizing that she 
 was a curmudgeon. Neither did he regret what he 
 had called the troublesome affair. It had brought new 
 things into his life ; new thoughts and new powers had 
 become his. And it had given him Cecily — unless one 
 of them had still to go to town ! He glanced at the 
 clock ; it was half-past nine. A sudden excitement 
 came on him ; but he conquered it or al least held it 
 down, and sat there, smoking still. 
 
 Mason returned and began to clear away. " Madame 
 Zabriska has ordered some soup and claret to be placed 
 in the hall for her Ladyship, my Lord," said he, in ex- 
 planation of his action. 
 
 Soup and claret might mean anything — peace or 
 war — going or staying — anything except sitting down 
 to table with him. On the whole their omen was not 
 encouraging. A sudden thought shot across his brain : 
 " By Jove, if she's taken my cab! " He jumped up; 
 but in a moment sat down again. The coup would be 
 a good one, but it would not beat him. He would walk 
 to Mingham and get a bed there. He was quite clear 
 that he would not sleep alone at Blent. He glanced 
 at the clock again ; to catch the train at Fillingford she 
 must start at ten — and so with him. Stay though, she 
 might go to Merrion. Mina would give her shelter. 
 
 She had looked very beautiful. Oh, yes, yes! Harry 
 smiled as he conceded the natural man that point. It 
 was seen plainly in retrospect ; he had not noticed it 
 much at the time. He had been too much occupied in 
 proving her a curmudgeon. One thing at a time was 
 the Tristram way — provided the time were reasonably 
 short. But he felt it now, and began to wonder if he 
 
 [415]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 had said too much. He decided that he had not said 
 a word too much. 
 
 At last he got up very dehberately and went into 
 the hall. It was a quarter to ten ; the soup and the 
 claret were there. Harry stood looking at them a mo- 
 ment, but they could not answer his question. With 
 an impatient shrug of his shoulders he walked out into 
 the garden. And there his first thought was not of 
 Cecily. 
 
 It was of Blent, Blent his own again, come back to 
 him enriched by the experience of its loss, now no 
 more all his life, but the background of that new life 
 he had begun to make for himself. He was no longer 
 pulifed up by the possession of it — the new experiences 
 had taught him a lesson there — but he was infinitely 
 satisfied. Blent for his own, in his own way, on his own 
 terms — that was what he wanted. See how fair it was 
 in the still night ! He was glad and exultant that it 
 was his again. Was he too a curmudgeon then? 
 Harry did not perceive how any reasonable person 
 could say such a thing. A man may value what is his 
 own without being a miser or a churl. 
 
 Nobody was to be seen in the garden — not Neeld, 
 not Mina, nor Cecily. In surprise he walked the length 
 and breadth of it without finding any of them. He 
 went on to the bridge and peered about, and then on 
 to the road ; he looked even in the river in a curiosity 
 that forgot the impossible. He was alone. With a 
 quick step he came back and strode round the house to 
 the stables. His fly was gone. He searched for a man 
 to question ; there was none ; they had all gone to sup- 
 per or to bed. And the fly was gone. He returned to 
 the bridge with an uncomfortable feeling of loneliness. 
 
 Something came upon him, an impulse or an instinct. 
 There was still a chance. She was not in the house, 
 she was not in the garden. There was one other place 
 
 [416]
 
 The Curmudgeon 
 
 where she still might be — if indeed she had not fled 
 and left him desolate. Where? The answer seemed 
 so easy to him, her choice of a spot so obvious. If he 
 found her anywhere that night he would find her by 
 the Pool, walking on the margin of its waters — where 
 he had seen her first and started at the thought that she 
 was his mother's phantom. He walked quickly up the 
 valley, not thinking, his whole being strung to wait 
 for and to meet the answer to his one great ques- 
 tion. 
 
 On what things a man's life may seem to hang! A 
 flutter of white through the darkness ! That was all. 
 Harry saw it with a great leap of the heart. His quick 
 pace dropped to a leisurely saunter ; he strolled on. 
 She was walking toward him. Presently she stopped, 
 and, turning toward the water, stood looking down 
 into it. The Pool was very black that night, the clouds 
 thick overhead. But for her white frock he might 
 never had seen her at all. He came up to her and 
 spoke in a careless voice. 
 
 " Where's Neeld ? " he asked, " I can't find him any- 
 where." 
 
 " He's gone back to Fairholme, Harry. It was late. 
 I was to say good-night to you for him." 
 
 " And what have you done with Mina? " His voice 
 was level, even, and restrained. 
 
 " Mina's gone to Merrion." She paused before she 
 added : " She was tired, so I pivt her in your fly to go 
 up the hill." 
 
 There was silence for a moment. Then he asked: 
 " Did you tell the fly to come back again? " 
 
 Silence again, and then a voice of deceptive meek- 
 ness, of hidden mirth, answered him : " No, Harry." 
 
 " I knew you'd be here, if anywhere." 
 
 " Well, I was sure you'd come here to look for me, 
 before you gave me up." She put out her hands and 
 
 [417]
 
 Tristram i?/' Blent 
 
 he took them in his. '' It was all true that you said 
 about me, all abominably true." 
 
 He did not contradict her. 
 
 " That's why I'm here," she went on. " When you've 
 feeling-s like that, it's your duty not to run away from 
 the place that excites them, but to stay there and fight 
 them down manfully." 
 
 " I agree," said Harry gravely. " When you've 
 basely deceived and tricked somebody it's cowardly to 
 run away. The straightest thing is to stay with that 
 person and try to redeem your character." 
 
 "How did you know it?" she asked. "I hardly 
 knew it was in my heart myself." 
 
 " It sharpens a man's wits to be called a liar — and not 
 to be able to deny the name." 
 
 " And you called me a — curmudgeon ! Oh, how did 
 you happen on that funny old word ? " Her laugh rang 
 fresh and gay through the quiet of the night. " After 
 you'd gone, Mina came to me." 
 
 " What happened then? " 
 
 " Well, I ought to have cried — and Mina did." 
 
 " Did Mina stop you going? " 
 
 " Mina ? No ! " The acme of scorn was in her voice. 
 
 " What then ? " he asked, drawing her a little nearer 
 to him. 
 
 " I wanted to obey your wishes. You said I was to 
 stay — and you'd go." 
 
 " Yes, but you've sent away the fly," objected Harry. 
 " Well, all that you said of me was true too." 
 
 " We should start on a clear understanding then? " 
 
 " I'm a liar — and you're a curmudgeon? Yes." 
 
 " What awful quarrels we shall have! " 
 
 " I don't care a hang for them," said Harry. 
 
 " And what about the Arbitration ? " 
 
 " Absurd, if I'm going to live in a state of war! " 
 
 Suddenly came a sound of wheels rolling briskly 
 
 [418J
 
 The Curmudgeon 
 
 along the road from behind them. Cecily sprang away 
 with a start. 
 
 " Oh, the fly's not come back ? " she cried. 
 
 " Perhaps there's still a chance for one of us." 
 
 She caught him by the arm. " Listen ! Is it stop- 
 ping? No! It must be past the house! " 
 
 " Do you want it to stop? " he asked. 
 
 She turned her eyes on him ; he saw them gleam 
 through the darkness. He saw her lips just move ; he 
 heard no more than the lingering fear, the passionate 
 reproach, of her murmured exclamation, " Oh, 
 Harry ! " 
 
 The next instant a voice rang out in the night, loud, 
 mellow, and buoyant. They listened as it sang, its 
 notes dominating the sound of the wheels and seeming 
 to fill the air around them, growing louder as the 
 wheels came near, sinking again as they passed on the 
 road to Mingham : 
 
 " Drink to me only with thine eyes. 
 And I will pledge with mine : 
 Or leave a kiss but in the cup 
 And I'll not look for wine. 
 The thirst that from the soul doth rise 
 Doth ask a drink divine : — " 
 
 Gradually, melodiously, and happily the voice died 
 away in the distance, and silence came. Harry drew 
 his love to him. 
 
 " Dear old Bob Broadley ! " said he softly. " He's 
 driving back from Fairholme, and he seems most par- 
 ticularly jolly." 
 
 " Yes," she murmured. Then she broke into a low, 
 merry, triumphant laugh. " I don't see why he should 
 be so particularly jolly." She pressed his hand hard, 
 laughing again. " He's only engaged," she whispered. 
 " But we're married, aren't we, Harry? " 
 
 " My dear, my dear, my dear ! " said he. 
 
 [419]
 
 XXX 
 
 Till the Next Generation 
 
 MAJOR DUPLAY had taken a flat in town, and 
 Mina had come up to aid him in the task of 
 furnishing it. The Major was busy and pros- 
 perous in these days. BHnkhampton was turning up 
 trumps for all concerned, for Tver, for Harry, for South- 
 end, and for him ; the scheme even promised to be 
 remunerative to the investing public. So he had told 
 Mina that he must be on the spot, and that hence- 
 forward the country and the Continent would know 
 him only in occasional days of recreation. He also 
 murmured something about having met a very at- 
 tractive woman, a widow of thirty-five. The general 
 result seemed to be that he had forgotten his sorrows, 
 was well content, and a good deal more independent of 
 his niece's society and countenance than he had been 
 before. All this Mina told to Lady Evenswood when 
 she went to lunch in Green Street. 
 
 " Yes, I think I've launched uncle," said she com- 
 placently, " and now I shall devote myself to the Tris- 
 trams." 
 
 " You've been doing that for a long time, my 
 dear." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose I have really," she laughed. " I've 
 been a sort of Miss Swinkerton — I wish you knew her ! 
 Only I devoted myself to one family and she does it 
 for all the neighborhood." 
 
 Lady Evenswood looked at her with a kindly smile. 
 
 " You were rather in love with Harry, you know," 
 she said. 
 
 [420]
 
 Till the Next Generation 
 
 " Which was very absurd, but — yes, I was. Only 
 then Cecily came and — well, it was altogether too 
 artistic for me even to want to interfere. If I had 
 wanted, it would have made no difference, of course. 
 They've been pressing me to go on living at Merrion, 
 and I shall." 
 
 " Oh, if you could get nothing but a pigsty on the 
 estate, you'd take it. Though I don't know what you'll 
 find to'do." 
 
 " To do ? Oh, plenty ! Why, they're only just begin- 
 ning, and ! " The wave of her hands expressed 
 
 the endless possibilities of a Tristram household. 
 
 " And gradually you'll glide into being an old woman 
 like me — looking at the new generation ! " 
 
 " Her children and his ! There ought to be some- 
 thing to look at," said Mina wistfully. " But we've not 
 done with Harry himself yet." 
 
 " Robert says he's too fond of making money, or 
 he might do something in politics." 
 
 " It isn't money exactly. It's a good deal Blent. He 
 wants to make that splendid. Perhaps he'll come to 
 the politics in time." 
 
 " He's made you believe in him anyhow." 
 
 " Yes, and I know I don't count. All the same I've 
 seen a good deal of him. Mr Neeld and I have been in 
 it right from the beginning." 
 
 " And in the end it was all a mare's nest. Fancy if 
 Addie Tristram had known that ! " 
 
 " I think she liked it just as well as she thought it 
 was. And I'm sure Harry did." 
 
 " Oh, if he's like that, he'll never do for the British 
 public, my dear. He may get their money but he won't 
 get their votes. After all, would you have the country 
 governed by Addie Tristram's son? " 
 
 " I suppose it would be rather risky," said the Imp 
 reluctantly. But she cheered up directly on the 
 
 [421]
 
 Tristram of l^ lent 
 
 strength of an obvious thought. " There are much 
 more interesting things than poHtics," she said. 
 
 " And how is Cecily? " asked Lady Evenswood. 
 
 " Oh, she's just adorable — and Mrs Iver's got her a 
 very good housekeeper." 
 
 The old lady laughed as she turned to welcome Lord 
 Southend. 
 
 " I've just met Disney," he remarked. " He doesn't 
 seem to mind being out." 
 
 " Oh, he'll be back before long, and without his in- 
 cumbrances. And Flora's delighted to get a winter 
 abroad. It couldn't have happened more conveniently, 
 she says." 
 
 " He told me to tell you that he thought your young 
 friend — he meant Harry Tristram — was lost forever 
 now." 
 
 " What a shame ! " cried Mina indignantly. 
 
 " Just like Robert ! He never could understand that 
 a man has a history just as a country has. He is and 
 ought to be part of his family." 
 
 " No sense of historical continuity," nodded South- 
 end. " I agree, and that's just why, though I admire 
 Disney enormously, I " 
 
 " Generally vote against him on critical occasions? 
 Yes, Robert makes so many admirers like that." 
 
 " Is his work at Blinkhampton nothing? " demanded 
 Mina. 
 
 " He got in for that while he was dispossessed," 
 smiled Southend. " I say, thank heaven he wouldn't 
 have the viscounty ! " 
 
 ** That would have been deplorable," agreed Lady 
 Evenswood. 
 
 " It's all a very curious little episode." 
 
 " Yes. No more than that." 
 
 " Yes, it is more," cried Mina. " Without it he'd 
 never have married Cecily." 
 
 [422]
 
 Till the Next Generation 
 
 " Romance, Madame Zabriska, romance ! " South- 
 end shook his head at her severely. 
 
 Mina flinched a Httle under the opprobrium of the 
 word. Yet why? In these days we have come to 
 recognize — indeed there has been small choice in the 
 matter, unless a man would throw away books and 
 wear cotton-wool in his ears — that the romance of one 
 generation makes the realities of the next, and that a 
 love-affair twenty years old becomes a problem in 
 heredity, demanding the attention of the learned, and 
 receiving that of the general public also. So that 
 though the affair and the man be to all seeming insig- 
 nificant, consolation may be found in the prospect of 
 a posthumous importance ; and he who did nothing 
 very visible in his lifetime may, when his son's 
 biography comes to be written, be held grandfather to 
 an epic poem or a murder on the high seas — and it 
 seems to be considered that it is touch and go which 
 way the thing turns out. Are there then any episodes 
 left? Does not everything become an enterprise of 
 great pith and moment, with results that will probably, 
 some day or other, be found to admit of mathematical 
 demonstration? Happily the human race, in practice 
 if not in theory, declines the conclusion. We know 
 that we are free, and there's an end of it, said Dr 
 Johnson. Well, at least we can still think that we are 
 doing what we like — and that's the beginning of most 
 things. 
 
 That temporary inferiority of Bob Broadley's, on 
 which Cecily had touched so feelingly, was soon re- 
 dressed, and after the wedding Harry had a talk with 
 the bride. It was not unnatural that she should blush 
 a little when he spoke to her — a passing tribute to the 
 thought of what might have been. Harry greeted it 
 with a laugh. 
 
 " I suppose we'd better be straightforward about 
 
 [423]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 this? " he said. " Mingham's so near Blent, you see. 
 We're both very glad, aren't we, Mrs Broadley? " 
 
 " I imagine so," said Janie. " You show no signs of 
 pining anyhow." 
 
 " And as to our behavior — there's not a father in the 
 kingdom who wouldn't think us right." 
 
 " I was the worst — because I think I was in love with 
 Bob all the time." 
 
 " I was just as bad — because I thought you were 
 too," said Harry. 
 
 " How could we do it then? " she asked. 
 
 " That's the odd thing. It didn't seem at all out of 
 the way at the time," he pondered. 
 
 " You'd do it again now, if the case arose, but I 
 shouldn't. That's the difiference," said she. 
 
 Harry considered this remark for a moment with an 
 impartial air. " Well, perhaps I should," he admitted 
 at last, " but you needn't tell that to Cecily. Con- 
 tent yourself with discussing it with Mina or Mr 
 Neeld." 
 
 " I'm tired of both of them," she cried. " They do 
 nothing but talk about you." 
 
 That night as he sat in the garden at Blent with his 
 wife, Harry returned the compliment by talking of the 
 Imp. He looked up toward Merrion and saw the 
 lights in the windows. 
 
 " I think Mina is with us for life, Cecily," said he. 
 
 " I like her to be," she answered with a laugh. " First 
 because I like being loved, and she loves me. And then 
 I hke you to be loved, and she loves you. Besides, 
 she's been so closely mixed up with it all, hasn't she? 
 She knew about you before I did, she knew Blent be- 
 fore I did. And it's not only with you and me. She 
 knew your mother, Addie Tristram, too." 
 
 " Yes, Mina goes right back to the beginning of the 
 thing." 
 
 [424]
 
 Till the Next Generation 
 
 " And the thing, as you call it, is what brought us 
 here together. So Mina seems to have had something 
 to do with that too. It all comes back to me when I 
 look at her, and I like to have her here." 
 
 " Well, she's part of the family story now. And 
 she'll probably keep a journal and make entries about 
 us, like the late Mr Cholderton, and some day be edited 
 by a future Mr Neeld. Mina must stop, that's clear." 
 
 " It's clear anyhow — because nothing would make 
 her go," said Cecily. 
 
 " Let's go up the hill and see her now ? " he sug- 
 gested. 
 
 Together they climbed the hill and reached the ter- 
 race. There were people in the drawing-room, and 
 Harry signed to Cecily to keep out of sight. They ap- 
 proached stealthily. 
 
 " Who's with her ? I didn't know anyone was stay- 
 ing here," whispered Cecily. 
 
 Harry turned his face toward her, smiling. " Hush, 
 it's old Neeld ! " 
 
 They peeped in. Neeld was sitting in an arm-chair 
 with some sheets of paper in his hand. He had his 
 spectacles on and apparently had been reading some- 
 thing aloud to Mina; indeed they heard his voice die 
 away just as they came up. Mina stood in front of him, 
 her manner full of her old excitement. 
 
 " Yes, that's it, that's just right ! " they heard her 
 exclaim. " She stood in the middle of the room 
 and " — Harry pressed his wife's hand and laughed 
 silently — " she cried out just what you've read. I re- 
 member exactly how she looked and the very words 
 that Mr Cholderton uses. ' Think of the difference it 
 makes, the enormous diflference ! ' she said. Oh, it 
 might have been yesterday, Mr Neeld ! " 
 
 Harry leapt over the window-sill and burst into the 
 room with a laugh. 
 
 [425]
 
 Tristram of Blent 
 
 " Oh, you dear silly people, you're at it again ! " said 
 he. 
 
 " The story does not lose its interest for me," re- 
 marked old Mr Neeld primly, and he added, as he 
 greeted Cecily, " It won't so long as I can look at your 
 face, my dear. You keep Addie Tristram still alive for 
 me." 
 
 " She's Lady Tristram — and I'm the enormous dif- 
 ference, I suppose," said Harry. 
 
 Mina and Neeld did not quite understand why 
 Cecily turned so suddenly and put her hand in Harry's, 
 saying, " No, Harry, there's no difference now." 
 
 Meanwhile, down in Blentmouth, Miss Swinkerton 
 looked up from the local paper and remarked across 
 the table to Mrs Trumbler : 
 
 " Here's an announcement that Lady Tristram will 
 give a ball at Blent in January. You'll remember that 
 I told you that two months ago, Mrs Trumbler." 
 
 " Yes, Miss Swinkerton, but that was before all 
 the " 
 
 " Really I'm not often wrong, my dear," interrupted 
 Miss S. decisively. 
 
 " Well, I hope there won't be any more changes," 
 sighed Mrs Trumbler. " They're so very startling." 
 
 She might rest in peace awhile. Addie Tristram was 
 dead, and the title to Blent was safe till the next genera- 
 tion. Beyond that it would not perhaps be safe to 
 speak in view of the Tristram blood and the Tristram 
 ways. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 [426]
 
 
 
 
 
 RECENT 
 PUBLICATIONS 
 
 lips & Co. 
 
 New York 
 
 1901-1902 
 
 
 

 
 Anthotii/ Hope's New Novel 
 
 TRISTRAM OF BLENT 
 
 IT is always a question what Anthonj'- Hope will do 
 next. From a dashing romance of an imaginary 
 kingdom to drawing-room repartee is a leap which 
 this versatile writer performs with the greatest ease. In 
 his "Tristram of Blent" he has made a new departure, 
 demonstrating his ability to depict character by some 
 exceedingly delicate and skillful delineation. The plot 
 is unique, and is based upon the difference of time of the 
 Russian and English calendars, by which a marriage, a 
 birth, and the ownership of lands and name are in turn 
 affected, producing complications which hurry the' reader 
 on in search of the satisfactory solution which awaits 
 him. The Tristrams are characters of strong individual- 
 ities, of eccentricities likewise. These, coloring all 
 their acts, leave the reader in doubt as to the issue ; yet 
 it is a logical story through and through, events following 
 events in carefully planned sequence. A work of un- 
 doubted originality based on modern conditions, "Tris- 
 tram of Blent " proves that the author does not need an 
 ideal kingdom to write a thrilling romance. (12mo, $1.50.) 
 
 IRISH PASTORALS 
 
 Bi/ Shan F. Bullock 
 
 " TRISH PASTORALS" is a coUection of character 
 X sketches of the soil — of the Irish soil — by one who 
 has lived long and closely among the laboring, farming 
 peasantry of Ireland. It is not, however, a dreary re- 
 cital of long days of toil with scanty food and no recre- 
 ation, but it depicts within a life more strenuous than 
 one can easily realize, abundant elements of keen native 
 wit and irrepressible good nature. The book will give 
 many American readers a new conception of Irish pas- 
 toral life, and a fuller appreciation of the conditions which 
 go to form the strength and gentleness of the Irish char- 
 acter. (12rao, $1.50.)
 
 THE WESTERNERS 
 
 By Stewart Edward White 
 
 WHEN the Black Hills were discovered to be rich 
 in valuable ores, there began that heterogeneous 
 influx of human beings which always follows new-found 
 wealth. In this land and in this period, Stewart Edward 
 White has laid the setting of "The Westerners," a story 
 which is full of excitement, beauty, pathos and humor. 
 A young girl, growing to womanhood in a rough mining 
 camp, is one of the central figures of the plot. The other 
 is a half-breed, a capricious yet cool, resourceful rascal, 
 ever occupied in schemes of revenge. Around these two 
 are grouped the interesting characters which gave color 
 to that rude life, and, back of them aU, rough nature in 
 her pristine beauty. The plot is strong, logical, and well 
 sustained ; the characters are keenly drawn ; the details 
 cleverly written. Taken all in all, "The Westerners" is 
 a thoroughly good story of the far West in its most pict- 
 uresque decade. (12mo, $1.30.) 
 
 BY BREAD ALONE 
 
 By I. K. Friedman 
 
 MR. FRIEDMAN has chosen a great theme for his 
 new novel, one which affords a wealth of color 
 and a wide field for bold delineation. It is a story of the 
 steel-workers which introduces the reader to various and 
 little-known aspects of those toiling fives. In the course 
 of the work occurs a vivid description of a great strike. 
 The author, however, shows no tinge of prejudice, but 
 depicts a bitter labor struggle with admirable impartiality. 
 Along with the portrayal of some of man's worst passions 
 is that of his best, his affection for woman, forming a 
 love-story which softens the stern picture. The book 
 will appeal to students of industrial tendencies, as well 
 as to every lover of good fiction. (12mo, $1.30.)
 
 HERE are two volumes of most thrilling tales, gleaned 
 from the material which the age has brought lis. 
 Each collection occupies an original field and dspicts some 
 characteristic phase of our great commercial life. 
 
 WALL STREET STORIES 
 
 Bi/ Edwin Lefevre 
 
 IT would be difficult to find a better setting for a good 
 story than this hotbed of speculation. On the Ex- 
 change, every day is a day of excitement, replete with 
 dangerous risks, narrow escapes, victories, defeats. There 
 are rascals, "Napoleonic" rascals, and the "lambs" 
 who are shorn ; there is the old fight between right and 
 wrong, and sometimes the right wins, and sometimes — 
 as the world goes — the wrong. In the maddening whirl 
 of this life, which he knows so well, Edwin Lefevre has 
 laid the setting of his Wall Street stories. A number of 
 them have already appeared in McClure's Magazine, and 
 their well-merited success is the cause of publication in 
 book form of this absorbing collection, {\2vao, $1.25.) 
 
 HELD FOR ORDERS 
 
 STORIES OF RAILROAD LIFE 
 By Frank H. Spearman 
 
 WHILE railroad life affords fewer elements of pas- 
 sion and emotion than the life of Wall Street, it 
 offers however a far greater field for the depiction of 
 the heroic. Deeds of bravery are probably more com- 
 mon among these hardy, cool, resourceful men — the rail- 
 road employees — than among any other members of 
 society. " Held For Orders " describes thrilling incidents 
 in the management of a mountain division in the far West. 
 The stories are all independent, but have characters in 
 common, many of whom have been met with in McClure's 
 Magazine. Mr. Spearman combines the qualities of a 
 practical railroad man with those of a fascinating story- 
 teller, and his tales, both in subject and manner of tell- 
 ing, are something new in literature. (12mo, $1.50.)
 
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