r Francis who
had not forgotten the old courtesies once practised by gentlemen to
women whom they honoured, raised the hand that rested so lightly on his
arm, and kissed it.

"I know" he said--"that it would be impossible for you to do what is not
right and true and just! And you will need no advice from me save such
as is purely legal and technical. Let me be your friend in these
matters----"

"And in others too,"--said Mary, sweetly--"I do hope you will not
dislike me!"

Dislike her? Well, well! If any mortal man, old or young, could
"dislike" a woman with a face like hers and eyes so tender, such an one
would have to be a criminal or a madman! In a little while they fell
into conversation as naturally as if they had known each other for
years: Sir Francis listening with profound interest to the story of his
old friend's last days. And presently, despatching a telegram to his
wife to say that he was detained in the city by pressing business, he
took Mary out with him to a quiet little restaurant where he dined with
her, and finally saw her off from Paddington station by the midnight
train for Minehead. Nothing would induce her to stay in London,--her one
aim and object in life now was to return to Weircombe and explain
everything to Angus as quickly as possible. And when the train had gone,
Sir Francis left the platform in a state of profound abstraction, and
was driven home in his brougham feeling more like a sentimentalist than
a lawyer.

"Extraordinary!" he ejaculated--"The most extraordinary thing I ever
heard of in my life? But I knew--I felt that Helmsley would dispose of
his wealth in quite an unexpected way! Now I wonder how the man--Mary
Deane's lover--will take it? I wonder! But what a woman she is!--how
beautiful!--how simple and honest--above all how purely womanly!--with
all the sweet grace and gentleness which alone commands, and ever will
command man's adoration! Helmsley must have been very much at peace and
happy in his last days! Yes!--the sorrowful 'king' of many millions must
have at last found the treasure he sought and which he considered more
precious than all his money! For Solomon was right: 'If a man would give
all the substance of his house for love, it would be utterly
contemned!'"

* * * * *

At Weircombe next day there was a stiff gale of wind blowing inland, and
the village, with its garlands and pyramids of summer blossom, was swept
from end to en