nt emotion.

"Herkomer's, I think," he remarked. "Quite one of his best."

"It is your mother?" she whispered.

He nodded.

"I'm not great at genealogy," he said, "but I can go as far back as
that. She was by way of being a great lady, the daughter of the Duke of
Warminster."

"You were an only son," she said softly. "She must have been very fond
of you."

"Customary thing, I suppose," he remarked. "Lucky for her, under the
circumstances, that she died young."

He closed the oaken door in front of the picture, and locked it.

"I should like to see the armory," he said; "but I really forget--let me
see, it is at the end of the long gallery, isn't it?"

She led him there without a word. She was getting a little afraid of
him. They inspected the library and wandered back into the picture
gallery. It was she, now, who was silent. She had shown him all her
favorite treasures without being able to evoke a single spark of
enthusiasm.

"Once," she remarked, "we all had a terrible fright. We were told that
everything was going to be sold."

He nodded.

"I did think of it," he admitted; "but there seemed to be no hurry. All
these things are growing into money year by year. Some day I shall send
everything to Christie's."

She looked at him in horror.

"You cannot--oh, you cannot mean it?" she cried.

"Why not? They are no use to me."

"No use?" she faltered.

"Not a bit. I don't suppose I shall see them again for many years. And
the money--well, one can use that."

"But I thought--that you were rich?" she faltered.

"So I am," he answered, "and yet I go on making more and more, and I
shall go on. Money is the whip with which its possessor can scourge
humanity. It is with money that I deal out my--forgive me, I forgot that
I was talking aloud, and to a child," he wound up suddenly.

She looked at him, dry-eyed, but with a strained look of sorrow
strangely altering her girlish face.

"You must be very unhappy," she said.

"Not at all," he assured her. "I am one of those fortunate persons
who have outlived happiness and unhappiness. I have nothing to do but
live--and pay off a few little debts."

He rose directly afterwards, and she walked with him out to the gardens
whence a short cut led to the village.

"I have not tried again to make you change your mind," he said as they
stood for a moment on the terrace. "If my wishes have any weight with
you, I trust that you will do nothing without consulting