came forward to
claim little Mary, then a child of nine, and in three months she was
considered as a permanent member of the household. And the night before
Charles went to school he told her of his grand passion for Adelaide.

On the day of the Oxford and Cambridge boat-race, when Charles rowed
three in the winning boat, Densil Ravenshoe died, after two days'
illness. Old James Horton's death occurred at the same time. Charles
hurried home in time for the funeral, and when all was over a servant
came up to him, and asked him would he see Mr. Ravenshoe in the library?
Charles entered the library with William, who had also been sent for.

Charles went up silently and kissed his brother on the forehead. For a
few minutes Cuthbert neither moved nor spoke, while Charles greeted
Mackworth civilly. William stood at a little distance, looking uneasily
from one to another.

Cuthbert broke the silence, and as he spoke Charles, by some instinct,
laid his hand on William's shoulder.

"I sent for you," he said, "on business which must be gone through with,
though I expect it will kill me. I should like to prepare you for what
is to come, but the blow would be equally severe whether you expect it
or not. You two who stand there were nursed at the same breast. That
groom on whose shoulder you have your hand now is my real brother; you
are no relation to me--you are the son of the faithful old servant whom
we buried to-day with my father!"

Charles at once asked for proofs and witnesses, and Mackworth took up
the tale.

"Your mother was Norah, James Horton's wife. James Horton was Densil
Ravenshoe's half-brother, and the illegitimate son of Peter. She
confessed to me the wicked fraud she practised, and has committed that
confession to paper. I hold it. You have not a point of ground to stand
on. You have been living in luxury and receiving an expensive education
when you should have been cleaning out the stable."

Charles's heart died away within him.

"Cuthbert," he said, "you are a gentleman. Is this true?"

"God knows how terribly true it is!" said Cuthbert quietly.

Father Mackworth handed the paper, signed by his mother, to him, and
Charles read it. It was completely conclusive. William also read it, and
turned pale.

Cuthbert spoke again in his quiet, passionless voice.

"My intention," he said, "is to make a provision of L300 a year for this
gentleman, whom till the last few days I believed to be my brother. Less