My lady rose from her seat with an air of almost tragical dignity.

"My son in prison!" she cried; "I cannot believe it. What has come over
him? Can you explain the mystery to me, Mr. Forster?"

"I cannot--the only thing that occurs to me is that he has gone to this
count's room for some purpose that he will confide to no one, and that
he has taken the watch in his hands and was discovered with it. He asked
me to tell you that the honor of the Carruthers sealed his lips."

"Did he say that--my Basil, Mr. Forster? If that be the case, rest
assured--although I blush to say it--there is a woman in it. I can
imagine Basil capable of suffering anything from a mistaken motive of
chivalry. Do you know with whom Mr. Carruthers has chiefly associated
since he has been in town?"

"I do not. I know that he has been in a very fast and fashionable set;
he told me as much; also that he has spent a good deal of money. One
check for three thousand pounds vanished in a day, and he gave no
account of it."

"Three thousand pounds!" cried Lady Carruthers; "yet he neither drank,
betted nor gambled."

"No," said the lawyer; "Mr. Carruthers told me he had never touched a
card and never would. I know he did not care for betting."

The proud, anxious mother raised her eyes to the lawyer's face. "How,
then, do you think he has got through it?"

"I cannot tell. You must pardon me, my lady, if I remind you that
although I am family solicitor, agent and manager of the property, I am
not the guardian of your son."

"I know," she said, clasping her hands. "I little thought he would ever
need a guardian; he seemed all that was honorable and upright. I cannot
imagine what has changed him. I regret so bitterly that I let him go to
London alone."

"It is a terrible position," said the lawyer; "the only thing is to
clear him as much as we can. The moment I read this I wrote an answer
and sent it to the 'Times' to the effect that Mr. Carruthers had gone
abroad."

A slight frown came over the delicate face.

"I implored Mr. Carruthers to write an indignant denial, and to let me
go to Paris to post it, but he would not hear of such a thing; the very
idea seemed offensive to him, I hope, Lady Carruthers, to induce you to
write such a letter."

"What kind of a letter?" she asked.

"One to the editor of the 'Times' denying the report, and saying that
your son has gone abroad."

"But that would be grossly untrue," she said.

"Yes, yes!