came out one by one, like diamonds in the clear blue. They said,
of course, all the proper things, and Dick heard a little more than he
had previously known.

Dick was always conscious of a faint, almost impersonal, resentment
against destiny when he stayed at Merefield. It was obvious to him that
the position of heir there was one which would exactly have suited his
tastes and temperament. He was extremely pleased to belong to the
family--and it was, indeed, a very exceptional family as regards
history: it had been represented in nearly every catastrophe since the
Norman Conquest, and always on the winning side, except once--but it was
difficult to enjoy the distinction as it deserved, living, as he did, in
a flat in London all by himself. When his name was mentioned to a
well-informed stranger, it was always greeted by the question as to
whether he was one of the Guiseleys of Merefield, and it seemed to him
singularly annoying that he could only answer "First cousin." Archie, of
course, was a satisfactory heir; there was no question of that--he was
completely of Dick's own school of manner--but it seemed a kind of
outrage that Frank, with his violent convictions and his escapades,
should be Archie's only brother. There was little of that repose about
him that a Guiseley needed.

It would be about half-past nine that the sound of an opening door, and
voices, from the further end of the terrace, told them that the
smoking-room conference was over, and they stood up as Jenny, very
upright and pale in the twilight, with her host at her side, came up
towards them. Dick noticed that the cigar his uncle carried was smoked
down almost to the butt, and augured well from that detail. The old
man's arm was in the girl's, and he supported himself on the other side,
limping a little, on his black stick.

He sat down with a grunt and laid his stick across the table.

"Well, boys, we've settled it," he said. "Jenny's to write the
telegram."

"No one need be anxious any more," announced Jenny imperturbably. "Lord
Talgarth's extremely angry still, as he has every right to be, and
Frank's going to be allowed to go on the tramp if he wants to."

The Rector waited, in deferential silence, for corroboration.

"Jenny's a very sensible girl," observed Lord Talgarth. "And what she
says is quite right."

"Do you mean to say--" began Archie.

The old man frowned round at him.

"All that I've said holds good," he said.

"Frank's m