fe over here?"

"Perfectly."

She looked at him earnestly. Perhaps she had never admitted, even to
herself, how fond she had been of this scapegrace cousin.

"You'll find that no one will have a word to say against you," she told
him, "now that you are wealthy and regenerate. They'll forget everything
you want them to. When will you come and dine here and meet all your
relatives?"

"Whenever you are kind enough to ask me," he answered. "I thought of
going down to Dominey to-morrow."

She looked at him with a new thing in her eyes--something of fear,
something, too, of admiration.

"But--your wife?"

"She is there, I believe," he said. "I cannot help it. I have been an
exile from my home long enough."

"Don't go," she begged suddenly. "Why not be brave and have her removed.
I know how tender-hearted you are, but you have your future and your
career to consider. For her sake, too, you ought not to give her the
opportunity--"

Dominey could never make up his mind whether the interruption which came
at that moment was welcome or otherwise. Caroline suddenly broke off
in her speech and glanced warningly towards the larger room. A tall,
grey-haired man, dressed in old-fashioned clothes and wearing a
pince-nez, had lifted the curtains. He addressed the Duchess in a thin,
reedy voice.

"My dear Caroline," he began,--"ah, you must forgive me. I did not know
that you were engaged. We will not stay, but I should like to present to
you a young friend of mine who is going to help me at the meeting this
evening."

"Do bring him in," his wife replied, her voice once more attuned to its
natural drawl. "And I have a surprise for you too, Henry--a very great
surprise, I think you will find it!"

Dominey rose to his feet--a tall, commanding figure--and stood waiting
the approach of the newcomer. The Duke advanced, looking at him
enquiringly. A young man, very obviously a soldier in mufti, was
hovering in the background.

"I must plead guilty to the surprise," the Duke confessed courteously.
"There is something exceedingly familiar about your face, sir, but I
cannot remember having had the privilege of meeting you."

"You see," Caroline observed, "I am not the only one, Everard, who did
not accept you upon a glance. This is Everard Dominey, Henry, returned
from foreign exile and regenerated in every sense of the word."

"How do you do?" Dominey said, holding out his hand. "I seem to be
rather a surprise to every one, b