s I
have, and you know as well as I do what to read between the lines when
they talk of 'clues' and of 'certain sensational developments.'"

"Of course I do," he retorted gruffly, "but it's all nonsense."

"Of course it is. But worrying nevertheless."

"I don't see how such rubbish can worry you."

"Not," she said, "for myself. But for Luke. He must have got an
inkling by now of what is going on."

"Of course he has. And if he has a grain of sense he'll treat it with
the contempt it deserves."

"It's all very well, father. But just think for a moment. Place
yourself in Luke's position. The very idea that you might be suspected
must in itself be terrible."

"Not when you are innocent," he rejoined with the absolute certitude
of a man who has never been called upon to face any really serious
problem in life. "I shouldn't care what the rabble said about me, if I
had a clear conscience."

Louisa was silent for a moment or two, then she said:

"Luke is different somehow. He has been different lately."

"He has a lot to put up with, with old Radclyffe going off his head in
that ridiculous way."

But Louisa did not reply to that suggestion. She knew well enough
that it was neither Lord Radclyffe's unkindness, nor the arrogance of
the new cousin that had changed and softened Luke's entire nature.

The day that he had sat beside her on the stain at Lady Ducies' ball,
the completeness of the change had been fully borne in on her. When
Luke said to her: "I would give all I have in the world to lie on the
ground before you and to kiss the soles of your feet," she knew that
Love had wrought its usual exquisite miracle, the absorption of self
by another, the utter sinking of the ego before the high altar of the
loved one. She knew all that, but dear old Colonel Harris had
forgotten--perhaps he had never known.

That knowledge comes to so few nowadays. Life, psychology, and sexual
problems have taken the place of the divine lesson which has glorified
the world since the birth of Lilith.

All that Louisa now remarked to her kind and sensible father was----

"You know, dear, suspicion has killed a man before now. It was but a
very little while ago that a noble-hearted gentleman preferred death
to such dishonour."

"You've got your head," he retorted, "full of nonsense, Lou. Try and
be a sensible woman now, and think of it all quietly. Is there
anything you would like me to do, for instance?"

"Yes, if you will."