Mark looked him full in the face.

"Do you know him?"

"I did, in past years, most intimately."

"Then you knew the finest fellow, sir, that ever walked mortal earth."

"I have discovered that, sir, as well as you. I am under obligations
to that man which my heart's blood will not repay. I shall make no
secret of telling you what they are at a fit time."

Mark held out his broad red hand, and grasped Stangrave's till the
joints cracked: his face grew as red as a turkey-cock's; his eyes
filled with tears.

"His father must hear that! Hang it; his father must hear that! And
Grace too!"

"Grace!" said Claude: "and is she with you?"

"With the old man, the angel! tending him night and day."

"And as beautiful as ever?"

"Sir!" said Mark solemnly, "when any one's soul is as beautiful as
hers is, one never thinks about her face."

"Who is Grace?" asked Stangrave.