d
often evaded them in life.

Next on the page to Barbara's picture was the portrait of her cousin,
Captain d'Arcy, of whom she had spoken more than once, the "hero and
knight" of her childhood. He looked a handsome enough fellow in his
uniform, though hardly of the "hero and knight" type. He was too
full-fleshed for that: a big, low-browed, thick-lipped man of
thirty-six or seven, who would think a great deal of himself and his
own pleasure. Evidently he had changed since the days when he was the
ideal hero of a sixteen-year-old girl. Denin, scarred and wrecked, a
bit of human driftwood, was dimly shocked at the mean pleasure had in
this thought. Barbara--wife or widow--was unlikely to feel her old love
rekindle at sight of her cousin, and Denin was glad--glad. Barbara was
not a girl to fall in love easily. But, if she believed herself free,
she might some day....

A spurt of fire darting up his spine seemed to burn the base of his
brain. It struck him almost with horror that the question he had been
asking a few minutes ago had answered itself. No matter how undesirable
he might be as a husband, he must for Barbara's own sake force the fact
of his continued existence upon her.

"As soon as I can control my hand enough to hold a pencil, I'll write
to her--or her mother. Or perhaps I'll try to telegraph, if that's
possible from here," he thought. Poor Barbara! Poor Mrs. Fay! It would
be a blow to them, and--yes, by Jove, to Frank Denin, his cousin. Poor
Frank, too! He had got the Denin estates and the money which ought to
have gone with the baronetcy, and then by an extra stroke of luck the
title had fallen to him, on top of all the rest. It would be a wrench
for him to give it up after more than eight months of enjoyment. Then
there was that pretty American girl, Miss VanKortland, to whom poor old
Frank had proposed time after time. All his money and the two big
places had made no difference to her. She had plenty of money of her
own. She had seemed to like Frank Denin, but she was a desperate flirt
and had always said that if she ever married out of her own country, it
would be a man with a title. It was Kathryn VanKortland who had
introduced Sir John Denin to Barbara Fay at a dance, not long after
Barbara's presentation. John had felt grateful to Kathryn for that, and
indirectly grateful to Frank because if it hadn't been for him he would
not have been invited to Miss VanKortland's dance. How strangely,
vividly,