Mullins departed, and Sir Terence prepared to follow. Gently he
disengaged himself from the arms her ladyship now flung about
him.

"Courage, my dear," he said. "Wellington may show me more mercy
than I deserve."

"You are going to tell him?" she questioned brokenly.

"Of course, sweetheart. What else can I do? And since you and
Tremayne find it in your hearts to forgive me, nothing else matters
very much." He kissed her tenderly and put her from him. He looked
at Sylvia standing beside her and at Tremayne beyond the table.
"Comfort her," he implored them, and, turning, went out quickly.

Awaiting him in the study he found not only Lord Wellington, but
Colonel Grant, and by the cold gravity of both their faces he had
an inspiration that in some mysterious way the whole hideous truth
was already known to them.

The slight figure of his lordship in its grey frock was stiff and
erect, his booted leg firmly planted, his hands behind him clutching
his riding-crop and cocked hat. His face was set and his voice as he
greeted O'Moy sharp and staccato.

"Ah, O'Moy, there are one or two matters to be discussed before I
leave Lisbon."

"I had written to you, sir," replied O'Moy. "Perhaps you will