than a man in the possession
of all his faculties. At last he finished the letter, and looked up in a
dazed, miserable way, letting his eyes wander over the fir-trees and the
fragrant shrubs and the flowers by the path.

"Dear old fellow, what is the matter?" I asked.

The words seemed to rouse him.

A dreadful look passed over his face--the look of one stricken to
the heart. But his voice was perfectly calm, and full of a ghastly
self-control.

"Freda will be my sister-in-law," he said, rather as if stating the fact
to himself than answering my question.

"Impossible!" I said. "What do you mean? How could--"

As if to silence me he thrust the letter into my hand. It ran as
follows:

"Dear Derrick,--For the last few days I have been down in the Flemings'
place in Derbyshire, and fortune has favoured me, for the Merrifields
are here too. Now prepare yourself for a surprise. Break the news to the
governor, and send me your heartiest congratulations by return of post.
I am engaged to Freda Merrifield, and am the happiest fellow in the
world. They are awfully fastidious sort of people, and I do not believe
Sir Richard would have consented to such a match had it not been for
that lucky impulse which made me rescue Dick Fleming. It has all been
arranged very quickly, as these things should be, but we have seen a
good deal of each other--first at Aldershot the year before last, and
just lately in town, and now these four days down here--and days in a
country house are equal to weeks elsewhere. I enclose a letter to my
father--give it to him at a suitable moment--but, after all, he's sure
to approve of a daughter-in-law with such a dowry as Miss Merrifield is
likely to have.

"Yours affly.,

"Lawrence Vaughan."

I gave him back the letter without a word. In dead silence we moved on,
took a turning which led to a little narrow gate, and passed out of the
grounds to the wild moorland country beyond.

After all, Freda was in no way to blame. As a mere girl she had allowed
Derrick to see that she cared for him; then circumstances had entirely
separated them; she saw more of the world, met Lawrence, was perhaps
first attracted to him by his very likeness to Derrick, and finally fell
in love with the hero of the season, whom every one delighted to honour.
Nor could one blame Lawrence, who had no notion that he had supplanted
his brother. All the blame lay with the Major's slavery to drink, for
if only he had remained