eel in every fibre of his being how
little welcome he was where the ties of flesh and blood alone, not to
speak of his most ceaseless yet delicate generosity, should have
ensured him a very different reception.

Again he sighed, this time more deeply, and the corners of Rupert's
lips, the arch of his eyebrows, moved upwards in smiling
interrogation.

"It must have given you a shock," said Mr. Landale, carelessly, "to
see the resemblance between Molly and poor Cecile; not, of course,
that _I_ can remember her; but Tanty says it is something startling."

Adrian assented briefly.

"I daresay it seems quite painful to you at first," proceeded Rupert,
much in the same deliberate manner as a surgeon may lay bare a wound,
despite the knowledge of the suffering he is inflicting, "I noticed
that you seemed upset during dinner. But probably the feeling will
wear off."

"Probably."

"Madeleine resembles her father, I am told; but then you never saw the
_feu Comte_, did you? Well, they are both fine handsome girls, full of
life and spirits. It is our revered relative's intention to leave them
here--as perhaps she has told you--for two months or so."

"I have begged her," said Sir Adrian gravely, "to make them understand
that I wish them to look upon Pulwick as their home."

"Very right, very proper," cried the other; "in fact I knew that was
what you would wish--and your wishes, of course, are my law in the
matter. By the way, I hope you quite understand, Adrian, how it
happened that I did _not_ notify to you the arrival of these guests
extraordinary--knowing that you have never got over their mother's
death, and all that--it was entirely from a wish to spare you.
Besides, there was your general prohibition about my visitors; I did
not dare to take the responsibility in fact. And so I told Tanty."

"I do not wish to doubt the purity of your motives, though it would
have grieved me had _these_ visitors (no ordinary ones as you yourself
admit) come and gone without my knowledge. As it fell out, however,
even without that child's dangerous expedition, I should have been
informed in any case--Rene knew."

"Rene knew?" cried Rupert, surprised; and "damn Rene" to himself with
heart-felt energy.

That the infernal little spy, as he deemed his brother's servant,
should have made a visit to Pulwick without his knowledge was
unpleasant news, and it touched him on his tenderest point.

But now, replenishing his half-emptied gl