oined them, and it was some time later when Mrs.
Keith took Blake into the empty drawing-room.

"I'm glad you have come home," she said. "I think you are needed."

"That," said Blake, "is how it seemed to me."

His quietness was reassuring. Mrs. Keith knew he was to be trusted,
but she felt some misgivings about supporting him in a line of action
that would cost him much. Still, she could not be deterred by
compassionate scruples when there was an opportunity of saving her old
friend from suffering. Troubled by a certain sense of guilt but
determined, she tried to test his feelings.

"You didn't find waiting for us tedious," she remarked. "I suppose you
were telling Millicent about your adventures when we came in; playing
Othello, and she seemed to be listening as Desdemona did."

"I expect she was exercising a good deal of patience," Blake rejoined
with a laugh. "Anyway, since you compare me to the Moor, you must own
that I've never pretended to be less black that I'm painted."

"Ah!" said Mrs. Keith with marked gentleness, "you needn't pretend to
me. I have my own opinion about you, and if it doesn't agree with
other people's, so much the worse for theirs. I knew you would come
home as soon as you could be found."

"Then you must know what has been going on in my absence."

"I have a strong suspicion. Your uncle has been hard pressed by
unscrupulous people with an end to gain. How much impression they have
made on him I cannot tell, but he's fond of you, Dick, and in trouble.
It's a cruel position for an honourable man with traditions like those
of the Challoners' behind him."

"That's true; I hate to think of it. You know what I owe to him and
Bertram."

"He's old," continued Mrs. Keith. "It would be a great thing if he
could be allowed to spend his last years in quietness, but I fear
that's impossible, although, perhaps, to some extent, it lies in your
hands." Then she looked steadily at Blake. "Now you have come back,
what do you mean to do?"

"Whatever is needful; I'm for the defence. The Colonel's position
can't be stormed while I'm on guard; and this time there'll be no
retreat."

"Don't add that, Dick; it hurts me. I'm not so hard as I sometimes
pretend. I never doubted your staunchness, but I wonder whether you
quite realize what the defence may cost you. Have you thought about
your future?"

"You ought to know that the Blakes never think of the future. We're a
happy-go-luck