anybody but himself. I met them last Easter at
Dalton's place. They seemed to hit off extremely well."

"Oh, she has improved him; there is no doubt about that. She is a very
charming woman. What on earth does Dalton do with himself at Angleford?"

"He has become an orchard man on a grand scale," said Willoughby. "Three
years ago he planted nearly a hundred acres with the best young stocks
he could find, and he says he has every apple in the _Pomona_ worth
eating or cooking."

"He has got over that affair with Campion's sister, I suppose?"

"I don't know that he has. Brooke Dalton's one of the finest fellows in
existence: there's a heart in him somewhere, and he does not easily
forget. I came upon him and Campion one day in the garden, and though
they knew I was close to them they went on talking about her and her
husband. 'You were always too hard on her, Sydney,' Brooke was saying,
'and now you have admitted as much.' 'I don't wish to be hard on _her_,
but I can't bear that man,' Campion said--meaning Walcott, of course.
'Well,' Dalton said,' I am perfectly sure that she would not have stuck
to him through thick and thin, so bravely and so purely, unless she had
been convinced of his innocence. As I believe in her, I am bound to
believe in him. Don't you think so?' he said, turning to me. 'I hope
every one who knows her will show her the respect and reverence that she
deserves. Now that they have come back to England, Edith is going to
call on her at once.' Edith is his sister, you know: and she tells my
mother that she called immediately."

"How did Campion take it?"

"Very well, indeed. He said, 'You were always a good fellow, Brooke, and
I may have been mistaken.' New thing to hear Campion owning up, isn't
it?"

"So the Walcotts have come back?" said Milton, with some excitement. "By
Jove, I shall leave my card to-morrow. Of course, he was innocent. I
knew all about it, for I defended him at the Old Bailey.--No wonder
Campion is uncomfortable about it."

The idea seemed to divert Milton very much, and he chuckled over it for
two or three minutes.

"From what my mother says," Willoughby continued, "people seem disposed
to take them up. Her books, you know, are awfully popular--and didn't
you see how well the papers spoke of his last poems? You mark my
words--there will be a run upon the Walcotts by and by."

"Just the way of the world!" said Charles Milton. "Three or four years
ago they would have lynch