usiness, the secret of which he was now trying his best to solve.
"Yes," he said at length, "I suppose the standard of honesty in business
is nowadays just about as low as it can possibly be, eh? Well, I've
never been in business myself, so I don't know. In the one or two small
financial deals in which I've had a share, I've usually been 'frozen
out' in the end."

"Ah, Flockart," sighed the Laird of Glencardine, "you are unfortunately
quite correct. The so-called smart business man is the one who robs his
neighbour without committing the sin of being found out."

This remark caused the other a twinge of conscience. Did he intend to
convey any hidden meaning? He was full of cunning and cleverness.
"Well," Flockart exclaimed, "I'm truly gratified to think that I retain
your confidence, Sir Henry. If I have in the past been able to be of any
little service to Lady Heyburn, I assure you I am only too delighted.
Yet I think that in the face of gossip which some of your neighbours
here are trying to spread--gossip started, I very much fear, by Miss
Gabrielle--my absence from Glencardine will be of distinct advantage to
all concerned. I do not, my dear Sir Henry, desire for one single moment
to embarrass you, or to place her ladyship in any false position. I----"

"But, my dear fellow, you've become quite an institution with us!"
exclaimed Sir Henry in dismay. "We should all be lost without you. Why,
as you know, you've done me so many kindnesses that I can never
sufficiently repay you. I don't forget how, through your advice, I've
been able to effect quite a number of economies at Caistor, and how
often you assist my wife in various ways in her social duties."

"My dear Sir Henry," he laughed, "you know I'm always ready to serve
either of you whenever it lies in my power. Only--well, I feel that I'm
in your wife's company far too much, both here and in Lincolnshire.
People are talking. Therefore, I have decided to leave her, and my
decision is irrevocable."

"Let them talk. If I do not object, you surely need not."

"But for your wife's sake?"

"I know--I know how cruel are people's tongues, Flockart," remarked the
old man.

"Yes; and the gossip was unfortunately started by Gabrielle. It was
surely very unwise of her."

"Ah!" sighed the other, "it is the old story. Every girl becomes jealous
of her step-mother. And she's only a child, after all," he added
apologetically.

"Well, much as I esteem her, and much as I