agrees with me. The difficulty will be that woman. A
terrible woman! She regards you as sealed for perdition by the mere
fact of your birth. But you will hear from us, old boy, be sure of
that. Give me your Muscovite address."

Piers carelessly gave it. He was paying hardly any attention to his
brother's talk, and would have felt it waste of energy to reassert what
he had said in the formal conclave. Weariness had come upon him after
these days of grief and indignant tumult; he wanted to be alone.

The portrait for which he had asked was very quickly found. It lay in a
drawer, locked away among other mementoes of the past. With a shock of
disappointment, Piers saw that the old photograph had faded almost to
invisibility. He just discerned the outlines of a pleasant face, the
dim suggestion of womanly charm--all he would ever see of the mother
who bore him.

"It seems to me," said Daniel, after sympathising with his chagrin,
"that there must be a lot of papers, literary work, letters, and that
kind of thing, which will have more interest for you than for anyone
else. When we get things looked through, shall I send you whatever I
think you would care for?"

With gratitude Piers accepted what he could not have brought himself to
ask for.

On the southward journey he kept taking from his pocket two letters
which had reached him at Hawes. One was from John Jacks, full of the
kindliest condolence; a manly letter which it did him good to read. The
other came from Mrs. Hannaford, womanly, sincere; it contained a
passage to which Piers returned again and again. "My niece is really
grieved to hear of your sudden loss; happening at a moment when all
seemed to be going well with you. She begs me to assure you of her very
true sympathy, and sends every good wish." Little enough, this, but the
recipient tried to make much of it. He had faintly hoped that Irene
might send him a line in her own hand. That was denied, and perhaps he
was foolish even to have dreamt of it.

He could not address his verses to her, now. He must hurry away from
England, and try to forget her.

Of course she would hear, one way or another, about the circumstances
of his birth. It would come out that he had no share in the property
left by his father, and the reason be made known. He hoped that she
might also learn that death had prevented his father's plan for
benefiting him. He hoped it; for in that case she might feel
compassion. Yet in the same mo