s as he was--a suitable
change in his apparel. But the urgency that his task dictated caused him
to waive the point.

He had a half-hour or so to himself after the stormy scene with her
ladyship, in which he had played again--though in a lesser degree--the
part of savior to Mistress Winthrop, a matter for which the lady had
rewarded him, ere withdrawing, with a friendly smile, which caused him
to think her disposed to forgive him his yesternight's folly.

In that half-hour he gave himself again very seriously to the
contemplation of his position. He had no illusions on the score of Lord
Ostermore, and he rated his father no higher than he deserved. But he
was just and shrewd in his judgment, and he was forced to confess that
he had found this father of his vastly different from the man he had
been led to expect. He had looked to find a debauched old rake, a vile
creature steeped in vice and wickedness. Instead, he found a weak,
easy-natured, commonplace fellow, whose worst sin seemed to be
the selfishness that is usually inseparable from those other
characteristics. If Ostermore was not a man of the type that inspires
strong affection, neither was he of the type that provokes strong
dislike. His colorless nature left one indifferent to him.

Mr. Caryll, somewhat to his dismay, found himself inclined to extend
the man some sympathy; caught himself upon the verge of pitying him for
being burdened with so very unfilial a son and so very cursed a wife. It
was one of his cherished beliefs that the evil that men do has a trick
of finding them out in this life, and here, he believed, as shrew-ridden
husband and despised father, the Earl of Ostermore was being made to
expiate that sin of his early years.

Another of Mr. Caryll's philosophies was that, when all is said, man is
little of a free agent. His viciousness or sanctity is temperamental;
and not the man, but his nature--which is not self-imbued--must bear the
responsibility of a man's deeds, be they good or bad.

In the abstract such beliefs are well enough; they are excellent
standards by which to judge where other sufferers than ourselves are
concerned. But when we ourselves are touched, they are discounted by the
measure in which a man's deeds or misdeeds may affect us. And although
to an extent this might be the case now with Mr. Caryll, yet, in spite
of it, he found himself excusing his father on the score of the man's
weakness and stupidity, until he caught hi