ce is worse
than anything I ever did."

"Adrian, for a boy who has ordinary intelligence you do say the
strangest things. The office of warden is an honorable one and well
paid."

The lad smiled and his mother hastily added:

"Besides, it gives an opportunity for befriending the unhappy
prisoners. Why, there is a man----"

She hesitated, looked fixedly at her son as if considering her next
words, then concluded, rather lamely:

"But you'll see."

She opened her novel and began to read and Adrian also busied himself
with the evening paper; and presently the station was reached and they
left the train.

A carriage was in waiting for them, driven by men in livery, and
altogether quite smart enough to warrant his mother's satisfaction as
they stepped into it and were whirled away to the prison.

But as he had been forewarned, there was no suggestion of anything
repulsive in the charming apartments they entered, and his sister's
greeting was sufficiently affectionate to make him feel that he had
misjudged her in the past.

All the guests were in dinner dress and Adrian was appointed to take
in his own mother, Kate having decided that this would be a happy
surprise to both parties. They had been the last to arrive and as soon
as greetings were over the meal was immediately served; but on their
way toward the dining-room, Mrs. Wadislaw pressed her son's arm and
nodded significantly toward the leader of the palm-hidden orchestra.

"Take a look at that man."

"Yes. Who is he?"

"A convict, life sentence. Number 526. He plays divinely, violin.
But----"

Again she hesitated and looked sharply into Adrian's face. Should she,
or should she not, tell him the rest? Yes. She must; it would be the
surest, shortest way of curing his infatuation for those wood people.
Her boy had spoken of this Margot as a child, yet with profound love
and admiration. It would be as well to nip any nonsense of that sort
in the bud. There was only a moment left, they were already taking
their places at the elegantly appointed table, and she whispered the
rest:

"He is in for robbery and manslaughter,--your own father the victim.
His name is Philip Romeyn, and your woodland nonpareil is his
daughter."

CHAPTER XXIII

FATHER AND SON

"Mother!"

Adrian's cry was a gasp. He could not believe that he had heard
aright; but he felt himself pulled down into his chair and realized
that though his spiritual world had been turned u