d to secure some safe seat. Already he had studied
both home and foreign affairs very closely, and had on two occasions
written articles in the _Times_ upon that most vexed and difficult
question, the pacification of Macedonia. He was a very fair speaker,
too, and on several occasions he had seconded resolutions and made quite
clever speeches at political gatherings in his own county, Perthshire.
Indeed, politics was his hobby; and, with money at his command and
influence in high quarters, there was no reason why he should not within
the next few years gain a seat in the House. With Sir Henry Heyburn he
often had long and serious chats. The brilliant politician, whose career
had so suddenly and tragically been cut short, gave him much good
advice, pointing out the special questions he should study in order to
become an authority. This is the age of specialising, and in politics it
is just as essential to be a specialist as it is in the medical, legal,
or any other profession.

In a few days the young man was returning to his dingy chambers in the
Temple, to pore again over those mouldy tomes of law; therefore almost
daily he ran over to Glencardine to chat with the blind Baronet, and to
have quiet walks with the sweet girl who looked so dainty in her fresh
white frocks, and whose warm kisses were so soft and caressing.

Surely no pair, even in the bygone days of knight and dame, the days of
real romance, were more devoted to each other. With satisfaction he saw
that Gabrielle's apparent indifference had now worn off. It had been but
the mask of a woman's whim, and as such he treated it.

One afternoon, after tea out on the lawn, they were walking together by
the bypath to the lodge in order to meet Lady Heyburn, who had gone into
the village to visit a bedridden old lady. Hand-in-hand they were
strolling, for on the morrow he was going south, and would probably be
absent for some months.

The girl had allowed herself to remain in her lover's arms in one long
kiss of perfect ecstasy. Then, with a sigh of regret, she had held his
hand and gone forward again without a word. When Walter had left, the
sun of her young life would have set, for after all it was not exactly
exciting to be the eyes and ears of a man who was blind. And there was
always at her side that man whom she hated, and who, she knew, was her
bitterest foe--James Flockart.

Of late her father seemed to have taken him strangely into his
confidence. Why,