d a note of it in a diary which Brande
kept desultorily. He wrote this up so irregularly no continuous
information can be gleaned from it as to his life. How the diary came
into my hands will be seen later. The memorandum is written thus:--

_Grey_--Our new member? Why did you introduce him? You say he cannot
help with money. It is plain he cannot help with brains.

_Brande_--He interests Natalie. He is what the uneducated call
good-natured. He enjoys doing unselfish things, unaware that it is for
the selfish sake of the agreeable sensation thereby secured. Besides, I
like him myself. He amuses me. To make him a member was the only safe
way of keeping him so much about us. But Natalie is the main reason. I
am afraid of her wavering in spite of my hypnotic influence. In a girl
of her intensely emotional nature the sentiment of hopeless love will
create profound melancholy. Dominated by that she is safe. It seems
cruel at first sight. It is not really so. It is not cruel to reconcile
her to a fate she cannot escape. It is merciful. For the rest, what does
it matter? It will be all the same in--

_Grey_--This day six months.

_Brande_--I believe I shivered. Heredity has much to answer for.

That is the whole of the entry. I did not read the words until the hand
that wrote them was dust.

Natalie professed some disappointment when I announced my immediate
return to town. I was obliged to manufacture an excuse for such a hasty
departure, and so fell back on an old engagement which I had truly
overlooked, and which really called me away. But it would have called
long enough without an answer if it had not been for Brande himself, his
friend Grey, and their insanities. My mind was fixed on one salient
issue: how to get Natalie Brande out of her brother's evil influence.
This would be better compassed when I myself was outside the scope of
his extraordinary influence. And so I went without delay.

For some time after my return to London, I went about visiting old
haunts and friends. I soon tired of this. The haunts had lost their
interest. The friends were changed, or I was changed. I could not resume
the friendships which had been interrupted. The chain of connection had
been broken and the links would not weld easily. So, after some futile
efforts to return to the circle I had long deserted, I desisted and
accepted my exclusion with serenity. I am not sure that I desired the
old relationships re-established. And as my