ge. He knew about your degree, of your cricket and
rowing. Lately he began to get restless. He lost sight of you after
you left Oxford, and it worried him. There were reasons, as you know,
why it was not well for him to come to England, but nevertheless he
determined to brave it out. It was to find you that he risked so much.
He left me on New Year's Day, and I have never heard a word from him
since. That is why I came to England."

"The whole reason?" I asked, like a fool.

"The whole reason," she affirmed simply.

"I do not wish to see my father," I said. "If he comes to me I shall
tell him so."

"He wants to tell you his story himself," she murmured.

"I would never listen to it," I answered. She sighed.

"You are very young," she said. "You do not know what temptation is.
You do not know how badly he was treated. You have heard his history,
perhaps, from his enemies. He is getting old now, Guy. I think that if
you saw him now you would pity him."

"My pity," I answered, "would never be strong enough to suffer me to
open the door to him--if he should come. He has left me alone all these
years. The only favour I would ever ask of him would be that he
continues to do so."

"You will believe the story of strangers?"

"No one in the world could be a greater stranger to me than he." She
sighed.

"You will not even let me be your friend," she pleaded. "You are young,
you are perhaps ambitious. There may be many ways in which I could help
you."

"As you helped my father, perhaps," I answered bitterly. "Thank you, I
have no need of friends--that sort of friends."

Her eyes seemed to narrow a little, and the smile upon her lips was
forced.

"Is that kind of you?" she exclaimed. "Your father was in a position of
great trust. It is different with you. You are idle, and you need a
career. England has so little to offer her young men, but there are
other countries--"

I interrupted her brusquely.

"Thank you," I said, "but I have employment, and such ambitions as I
have admit of nothing but an honest career."

Again I saw that contraction of her eyes, but she never winced or
changed her tone.

"You have employment?" she asked, as though surprised.

"Yes. As you doubtless know, I am in the service of the Duke of
Rowchester," I told her.

"It is news to me," she replied. "You will forgive me at least for
being interested, Guy. But when you say in the service of the Duke of
Rowchester you puzzle me. In Eng