claim upon her, which I had not."

"I must admit that," replied his partner, "to be true. But if she had
made the discovery that you have made, six months before she died, do you
think it would have cancelled the years you were together, and the
tenderness that each of you had conceived for the other, each on
increasing knowledge of the other?"

"What I think," said Wilding, simply but stoutly holding to the bare
fact, "can no more change the truth than it can bring down the sky. The
truth is that I stand possessed of what was meant for another man."

"He may be dead," said Vendale.

"He may be alive," said Wilding. "And if he is alive, have I
not--innocently, I grant you innocently--robbed him of enough? Have I
not robbed him of all the happy time that I enjoyed in his stead? Have I
not robbed him of the exquisite delight that filled my soul when that
dear lady," stretching his hand towards the picture, "told me she was my
mother? Have I not robbed him of all the care she lavished on me? Have
I not even robbed him of all the devotion and duty that I so proudly gave
to her? Therefore it is that I ask myself, George Vendale, and I ask
you, where is he? What has become of him?"

"Who can tell!"

"I must try to find out who can tell. I must institute inquiries. I
must never desist from prosecuting inquiries. I will live upon the
interest of my share--I ought to say his share--in this business, and
will lay up the rest for him. When I find him, I may perhaps throw