always believed him to be.
Lots of chaps would have been mean, and stuck to the name and money,
though of course no honourable man could do that. Grant quite saw how
Max felt, and would have to act in the same way himself, no matter what
it cost. If the truth had to come out, every one would say he'd behaved
like a hero--that was one comfort; but, as Edwin Reeves reminded them
both, Max might be rewarded for his noble resolve by learning that there
was no need to make the sensational story public. If the girl had died
or could not be found, it would be--in Mr. Reeves's opinion--foolishly
quixotic to rouse sleeping dogs, and ruin himself, to put money in the
pockets of the Reynold Dorans, who had more than they wanted already.

"You'll feel like getting leave to run over to France, I suppose," said
the lawyer, "though of course the search might be made for you if you
prefer."

"I prefer to go myself," Max decided quietly.

"Why not let me go with you?" Grant suggested, with a certain eagerness
which it seemed to Max he tried to suppress, rather than to show as a
proof of friendship. "The governor could spare me for a while, I expect,
and it wouldn't be quite such a gloomy errand as if you were alone. I'd
be glad to do it for you, dear old boy, honestly I would."

Yes, he would be glad. Max saw that. And instead of feeling drawn nearer
to Grant Reeves, he felt suddenly miles away. They had drifted apart
since Max had joined his regiment in the West and Grant had become a
partner with his father. Now Max told himself that he had never known
Grant: that as men they were so far from one another he could really
never know him; and he wondered at the impulse which had made him wish
Grant to hear the story with Edwin.

"But suppose it's all true and you find the girl over on the other side
somewhere?" Grant went on, when Max had answered that the search might
be long, and it would be better for him to make it alone. "What will
you do? Hadn't my mother better fetch her? Mother's over in Paris now,
you know, so it would be less trouble. You mightn't want to bring her
back yourself, unless, of course----"

"Unless--what?" Max wanted to know.

"Well, you're not related to the girl, and you're about the same age.
She'll naturally look upon you as a hero, a deliverer, and all that, if
she's a normal woman. If it were in a book instead of real life, the end
would be----"

"Different from what it will be with us," Max cut him