"I am happy in having a wife who won't see my faults." Then he added
humorously: "After all, however, that's not good for one."

Blanche gave him a tender smile; but he did not see it, for he was
gazing at a man who came down the steps from the neighboring cable
railway. The newcomer was about thirty years old, of average height,
and strongly made. His face was deeply sunburned and he had eyes of a
curious dark blue, with a twinkle in them, and dark lashes, though his
hair was fair. As he drew nearer, Blanche was struck by something that
suggested the family likeness of the Challoners. He had their firm
mouth and wide forehead, but by no means their somewhat austere
expression. He looked as if he went carelessly through life and could
readily be amused. Then he saw Bertram, and, starting, made as if he
would pass the entrance to the gallery, and Blanche turned her
surprised glance upon her husband. Bertram's hand was tightly closed
on the glasses he held, and his face was tense and flushed, but he
stepped forward with a cry:

"Dick!"

The newcomer moved toward him, and Blanche knew that he was the man who
had brought dishonor upon her husband's family.

"This is a fortunate meeting," Bertram said, and his voice was cordial,
though rather strained. "Blanche, here's my cousin, Dick Blake."

Blake showed no awkwardness. Indeed, on the whole, he looked amused;
but his face grew graver as he fixed his eyes on Mrs. Challoner.