"Duty's duty," he said, "though God keep me from yours. If I can do
anything, you may trust me to do it. He's not likely to come here, I
think; but he might try and get over to Albert down south. Good-bye
to you."

Mr. Redmayne went back to the house, and Jenny, who stood by them,
walked as far as the top of the steps with Brendon.

"Don't think I bear any ill will to this poor wretch," she said.
"I'm only heartbroken, that's all. I used to declare in my
foolishness that I had escaped the war. But no--it is the war that
has killed my dear, dear husband--not Uncle Robert. I see that now."

"It is all to the good that you can be so wise," answered Mark
quietly. "I admire your splendid patience and courage, Mrs. Pendean,
and--and--would do for you, and will do, everything that wit of man
can."

"Thank you, kind friend," she replied. Then she shook his hand and
bade him farewell.

"Will you let me know if you leave here?" he asked.

"Yes--since you wish it."

They parted and he ran down the steps, scarcely seeing them. He felt
that he already loved this woman with his whole soul. The tremendous
emotion swept him, while reason and common sense protested.

Mark leaped aboard the waiting motor boat and they were soon