is lordship had raised his brows. "By gad, sir," he ejaculated, "there
almost appears to be some justification for the captain. He was one of
your military secretaries, was he not?"

"He was."

"Ha! Pity! Pity!" His lordship was thoughtful for a moment. Then he
dismissed the matter. "But then orders are orders, and soldiers must
learn to obey implicitly. British soldiers of all degrees seem to find
the lesson difficult. We must inculcate it more sternly, that is all."

O'Moy's honest soul was in torturing revolt against the falsehoods he
had implied--and to this man of all men, to this man whom he reverenced
above all others, who stood to him for the very fount of military honour
and lofty principle! He was in such a mood that one more question on
the subject from Wellington and the whole ghastly truth must have come
pouring from his lips. But no other question came. Instead his lordship
turned on the threshold and held out his hand.

"Not a step farther, O'Moy. I've left you a mass of work, and you are
short of a secretary. So don't waste any of your time on courtesies. I
shall hope still to find the ladies in the garden so that I may take my
leave without inconveniencing them."

And he was gone, stepping briskly with clicking spurs, leaving O'Moy
hunched now in his chair, his body the very expression of the dejection
that filled his soul.

In the garden his lordship came upon Miss Armytage alone, still seated
by the table under the trellis, from which the cloth had by now been
removed. She rose at his approach and in spite of gesture to her to
remain seated.

"I was seeking Lady O'Moy," said he, "to take my leave of her. I may not
have the pleasure of coming to Monsanto again."

"She is on the terrace, I think," said Miss Armytage. "I will find her
for your lordship."

"Let us find her together," he said amiably, and so turned and went with
her towards the archway. "You said your name is Armytage, I think?" he
commented.

"Sir Terence said so."

His eyes twinkled. "You possess an exceptional virtue," said he. "To be
truthful is common; to be accurate rare. Well, then, Sir Terence said
so. Once I had a great friend of the name of Armytage. I have lost sight
of him these many years. We were at school together in Brussels."

"At Monsieur Goubert's," she surprised him by saying. "That would be
John Armytage, my uncle."

"God bless my soul, ma'am!" he ejaculated. "But I gathered you were
Irish, and Jack Ar