I could forget her, old man; but I can't. I don't feel
comfortable. For all these six years I've never forgotten her, and when
Leicester made an end of himself, I said to myself, 'In two or three
years' time she'll feel so grateful to me that----' Well, you know what
I thought. But she's never recognised me in any way. Other people we
know have been invited to Vale Linden, but I've never been one of the
lucky ones. That was why I urged you to come with me to this place of
hers. It meant having a chance of seeing her, and I hoped that she would
feel kindly towards me."

"Well, she may. Who knows?"

"I wonder how she feels about Leicester now?"

"Most likely she's forgotten him."

"Hardly."

"Why not?"

"Well, you see, she's married no one else."

"I make nothing of that. Besides, if she really loved him, do you think
she'd have thrown him over?"

"Yes," said Sprague, after a moment's hesitation.

"How do you make it out?"

"No woman with such pride as Olive has could have married him after the
letter I wrote. I presented a strong case, man. You see, Leicester gave
himself away so completely, that I had only to quote his exact words to
prove--well, exactly what I wanted to prove. At any rate, she did throw
him over."

"Do you think Leicester really cared for her?"

"Heaven only knows. It was impossible for any one to tell exactly what
he felt. At any rate, he went the whole hog afterwards, and then killed
himself. Do you know, although the fellow's end was so terribly sad, I
heaved a sigh of relief when I saw the report in the newspapers? If he'd
lived--well, I don't like to think what would have happened to either of
us. You know that terrible look in his eyes when he threatened us."

"Yes; but, after all, what could he do?"

"There's no knowing what a fellow like Leicester would have done. But
there, he's dead, and that's an end of it."

The two men climbed the hill towards the moors in silence. Some distance
behind, two boys followed, carrying their golf clubs.

"I suppose all this land around here belongs to John Castlemaine,"
remarked Purvis presently.

"I suppose so. I say, Purvis, did you notice what a mixed lot we are at
The Homestead?"

"Rather; but I like it. They do things very well there, too. Of course,
it was never intended for the likes of us; yet I am sure there are
people there who have no need to economise. Some one told me that a
neighbouring squire was dining there last night;