d person, of that order who always
do what they see to be right, and always have confidence in their optics.
She was not unworthy of a young man's admiration, if she was unfit to be
his guide. She resumed her ancient intimacy with Austin easily, while she
preserved her new footing with Richard. She and Austin were not unlike,
only Austin never dreamed, and had not married an old lord.

The three were walking on the bridge at Limburg on the Lahn, where the
shadow of a stone bishop is thrown by the moonlight on the water brawling
over slabs of slate. A woman passed them bearing in her arms a baby,
whose mighty size drew their attention.

"What a wopper!" Richard laughed.

"Well, that is a fine fellow," said Austin, "but I don't think he's much
bigger than your boy."

"He'll do for a nineteenth-century Arminius," Richard was saying. Then he
looked at Austin.

"What was that you said?" Lady Judith asked of Austin.

"What have I said that deserves to be repeated?" Austin counterqueried
quite innocently.

"Richard has a son?"

"You didn't know it?"

"His modesty goes very far," said Lady Judith, sweeping the shadow of a
curtsey to Richard's paternity.

Richard's heart throbbed with violence. He looked again in Austin's face.
Austin took it so much as a matter of course that he said nothing more on
the subject.

"Well!" murmured Lady Judith.

When the two men were alone, Richard said in a quick voice: "Austin! you
were in earnest?"

"You didn't know it, Richard?"

"No."

"Why, they all wrote to you. Lucy wrote to you: your father, your aunt. I
believe Adrian wrote too."

"I tore up their letters," said Richard.

"He's a noble fellow, I can tell you. You've nothing to be ashamed of.
He'll soon be coming to ask about you. I made sure you knew."

"No, I never knew." Richard walked away, and then said: "What is he
like?"

"Well, he really is like you, but he has his mother's eyes."

"And she's--"

"Yes. I think the child has kept her well."

"They're both at Raynham?"

"Both."

Hence fantastic vapours! What are ye to this! Where are the dreams of the
hero when he learns he has a child? Nature is taking him to her bosom.
She will speak presently. Every domesticated boor in these hills can
boast the same, yet marvels the hero at none of his visioned prodigies as
he does when he comes to hear of this most common performance. A father?
Richard fixed his eyes as if he were trying to make out the lineam