holding
his place but bound in duty to keep it. Such practical steps as could be
taken were taken. The confederates set no limit to their preparations
against danger and their devices to avoid detection. If lies were
necessary, they would lie; where falsification was wanted, they
falsified. There was no suspicion; not a hint of it had reached their
ears. Things were so quiet that Lady Tristram often forgot the whole
affair; her son watched always, his eyes keen for a sight, his ear down
to the earth for a sound, of danger. No security relaxed his vigilance,
but his vigilance became so habitual, so entered into him, that his
mother ceased to notice it and it became a second nature to himself.
That it might miss nothing, it was universal; the merest stranger came
within its ken. He watched all mankind lest some one among men should be
seeking to take his treasure from him. Mr Cholderton's Imp had not used
her eyes in vain; but Harry's neighbors, content to call him reserved,
had no idea that there was anything in particular that he had to hide.

There was one little point which, except for his persuasion of his own
rectitude, might have seemed to indicate an uneasy conscience, but was
in fact only evidence of a natural dislike to having an unwelcome
subject thrust under his notice. About a year after the disclosure Lady
Tristram had a letter from Mr Gainsborough. This gentleman had married
her cousin, and the cousin, a woman of severe principles, had put an end
to all acquaintance in consequence of the "Odyssey." She was dead, and
her husband proposed to renew friendly relations, saying that his
daughter knew nothing of past differences and was anxious to see her
kinsfolk. The letter was almost gushing, and Lady Tristram, left to
herself, would have answered it in the same kind; for while she had
pleased herself she bore no resentment against folk who had blamed her.
Moreover Gainsborough was poor, and somebody had told her that the girl
was pleasant; she pitied poverty and liked being kind to pleasant
people.

"Shall we invite them to stay for a week or two?" she had asked.

"Never," he said. "They shall never come here. I don't want to know
them, I won't see them." His face was hard, angry, and even outraged at
the notion.

His mother said no more. If the barony and Blent departed from Harry, on
Lady Tristram's death they would go to Cecily Gainsborough. If Harry had
his way, that girl should not even see his darli