ever dropped to any living soul, not a word ever spoken to the woman
herself, could be produced in proof of the assertion while the woman
lived. When she died Report started up again more confidently than ever,
and appealed to the man's own conduct as proof against the man himself.

He attended the funeral--though he was no relation. He took a few
blades of grass from the turf with which they covered her grave--when he
thought that nobody was looking at him. He disappeared from his club.
He traveled. He came back. He admitted that he was weary of England.
He applied for, and obtained, an appointment in one of the colonies.
To what conclusion did all this point? Was it not plain that his usual
course of life had lost its attraction for him, when the object of his
infatuation had ceased to exist? It might have been so--guesses less
likely have been made at the truth, and have hit the mark. It is, at any
rate, certain that he left England, never to return again. Another man
lost, Report said. Add to that, a man in ten thousand--and, for once,
Report might claim to be right.

Mr. Delamayn comes next.

The rising solicitor was struck off the roll, at his own request--and
entered himself as a student at one of the Inns of Court. For three
years nothing was known of him but that he was reading hard and keeping
his terms. He was called to the Bar. His late partners in the firm knew
they could trust him, and put business into his hands. In two years he
made himself a position in Court. At the end of the two years he made
himself a position out of Court. He appeared as "Junior" in "a famous
case," in which the honor of a great family, and the title to a great
estate were concerned. His "Senior" fell ill on the eve of the trial.
He conducted the case for the defendant and won it. The defendant