a picture of a man who is in no way fit to be
your companion in a lonely stroll. On the other hand, he is a brave man,
a generous enemy, a staunch friend, and a ready help at all times to the
needy. Now I have finished what has been a disagreeable though imperative
duty. Doubtless it has been disagreeable to you, also, Master Hamilton,
but--"

"On the contrary," he interrupted, in low tones, and with bowed head.

"But, of course, I am ready to stand by my words," I continued. "And now,
sir, you may, if you wish, say to Mistress Jennings that I have lied.
Doubtless she will believe you, in which case it shall be my pleasure to
send a messenger to you, thereby saving you the trouble of sending one to
me."

I put on my hat and awaited his reply. His hat was in his hand, and his
face was bent toward the ground, his air of ironical politeness having
left him. Frances turned to him and was about to speak, but, noticing the
peculiar expression in his face and attitude, remained silent. After a
long pause Hamilton spoke without lifting his eyes:--

"I suppose no other man ever received such an arraignment in cold blood
as I have just heard from Baron Clyde." Then turning hesitatingly to my
cousin, "But I am sorry to say it is true, Mistress Jennings, true in
every word."

He looked into my eyes, again bowed his head, and spoke after a long
silence: "Baron Ned, I can almost find it in my heart to thank you for
having done your duty so bravely. I have known for some time that I am
not fit to be this lady's companion and that I have no right to seek her
friendship."

I bowed low, without speaking, and after another long pause he looked up
to me again as he asked:--

"Now will you take my hand?"

"Gladly, George," I answered, giving him my hand, which he held for a
moment and dropped without a word, a strange smile playing about his
lips.

Naturally enough, Frances was at a loss how to act. Tears of vexation
came to her eyes, and she turned from us to dry them with her
handkerchief. She failed to find the handkerchief, so she turned to
George, who, seeing her need, drew it from his pocket where she had left
it for safe-keeping. The first favor a young girl shows to a man when
she finds herself in a "coming on disposition" is to hide some of her
intimate personal belongings in his pocket. The little incident of the
handkerchief caused us all to laugh and went a long way toward making us
easy.

Hamilton's frankness had