ther. He disappeared after I left, and
never turned up again. And Jim--poor Jim!--he was shiftless. Jim was a
tanner. It was no good setting him up in business. Steady income was the
cheapest way. But Jim died of too much time on his hands. His son is
in Mexico somewhere. I sent him there, and I hope he'll stay. If he
doesn't, his salary stops: he is shiftless too. That is not the kind of
thing, and they are not the kind of people you know best, Miss Raglan."

He looked at her, eyes full-front, bravely, honestly, ready to face the
worst. Her head was turned away.

He nodded to himself. It was as he feared.

At that moment a boy came running along the walk towards them, and
handed Mr. Vandewaters a telegram. He gave the lad a few pence, then,
with an apology, opened the telegram. Presently he whistled softly, in
a quick surprised way. Then he stuffed the paper into his waistcoat
pocket, threw away his cigar, and turned to Gracia Raglan, whose face as
yet was only half towards him. "I hope your news is good," she said very
quietly.

"Pretty bad, in a way," he answered. "I have lost a couple of
millions--maybe a little more."

She gasped, and turned an astonished face on him. He saw her startled
look, and laughed.

"Does it not worry you?" she asked.

"I have got more important things on hand just now," he answered. "Very
much more important," he added, and there was that in his voice which
made her turn away her head again.

"I suppose," he went on, "that the story you have just heard is not
the kind of an autobiography you would care to have told in your
drawing-room?"

Still she did not reply; but her hands were clasped tightly in front of
her. "No: I suppose not," he went on--"I--I suppose not. And yet, do you
know, Miss Raglan, I don't feel a bit ashamed of it, after all: which
may be evidence of my lost condition."

Now she turned to him with a wonderful light in her eyes, her sweet,
strong face rich with feeling. She put out her hand to his arm, and
touched it quickly, nervously.

"Your story has touched me inexpressibly," she said. "I did not know
that men could be so strong and frank and courageous as you. I did not
know that men could be so great; that any man could think more of what
a woman thought of--of his life's story--than of"--she paused, and then
gave a trembling little laugh--"of two millions or more."

He got to his feet, and faced her. "You--you are a woman, by heaven!" he
said. "You a