Howard?" he
asked, abruptly.

"Of course," replied Howard.

"So do I, though I can't lay claim to any. But there's a good strain in
Stafford and it shows itself. There's something in his face, a certain
look in his eyes, in his voice, and the way he moves; that quiet yet
frank manner--oh, I can't explain!" he broke off, impatiently.

"I think you have done it very well," said Howard. "I don't like the
word--it is so often misapplied--but I can't think of any better:
distinguished is the word that describes Stafford."

Sir Stephen nodded eagerly.

"You are right. Some men are made, born to wear the purple. My boy is
one of them--and he shall! He shall take his place amongst the noblest
and the best in the land. He shall marry with the highest. Nature has
cast him in a noble mould, and he shall step into his proper place."

He drew a long breath, and his brilliant eyes flashed as if he were
looking into the future, looking into the hour of triumph.

"Yes; I agree with you," said Howard; "but I am afraid Stafford will
scarcely share your ambition."

He was sorry he had spoken as he saw the change which his words had
caused in Sir Stephen.

"What?" he said, almost fiercely. "Why do you say that? Why should he
not be ambitious?" He stopped and laid his hand on Howard's shoulder,
gripping it tightly, and his voice sank to a stern whisper. "You don't
know of anything--there is no woman--no entanglement?"

"No, no!" said Howard. "Make your mind easy on that point. There is no
one. Stafford is singularly free in that respect. In fact--well, he is
rather cold. There is no one, I am sure. I should have known it, if
there had been."

Sir Stephen's grip relaxed, and the stern, almost savage expression was
smoothed out by a smile.

"Right," he said, still in a whisper. "Then there is no obstacle in my
way. I shall win what I am fighting for. Though it will not be an easy
fight. No, sir. But easy or difficult, I mean winning."

He rose and stood erect--a striking figure looking over Howard's head
with an abstracted gaze; then suddenly his eyelids quivered, his face
grew deathly pale, and his hand went to his heart.

Howard sprang to his feet with an exclamation of alarm; but Sir Stephen
held up his hand warningly, moved slowly to one of the tables, poured
out a glass of _liqueur_ and drank it. Then he turned to Howard, who
stood watching him, uncertain what to do or say, and said, with an air
of command:

"Not a wo