e falsehood,
she looked him bravely in the face. "It was about your clerk."

"Adrian?" he asked. And as she nodded, tremulous still and unprepared
for further questions, he added, "I hope you like him."

"You hope I like him?"

"Yes, he is my son."

Eden's hands went to her throat and her eyes to the grate. The note was
already in a blaze.

"Yes," Usselex continued, "I have a bit of news for you. He is engaged
to Miss Bolton. For a long time her parents objected, but last night
they consented. It may be because he was at the opera with you. How
small people can be!" he added. "She is a nice girl, though. Adrian
told me this morning that he tried to speak to you about her the night I
dined with Governor Blanchford, but that you did not seem interested."

"God in Heaven!" gasped Eden, beneath her breath. "If these are your
punishments, what then are your rewards?"

Usselex had led her to a seat and taken her unresisting hand in his. For
some little time he talked to her, very gently, as it behooves the
strong to address the weak. And as he spoke, Mr. Menemon entered, and
seeing them hand-locked and side-by-side, he smiled cheerily to himself
with the air of a man who learns that all is well.

Usselex stood up at once, but for a little space Eden sat very still,
surprised as February at a violet, then rising, she went forward to the
window and looked out at the night. From the square beyond came the beat
of drums, and on the breeze was borne to her the shrill treble of
retreating fifes. And as she loitered at the window, conscious only of a
sense of happiness such as she had never known before, her father called
to her. She turned at his bidding. In the opposite doorway a servant
stood.

"Dinner is served," he said.

And presently Mr. Menemon, as was his custom, mumbled a grace and
thanksgiving to God.

THE END.

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