"Are you too tired to join us in the library?"

"I'm as fresh as paint, sir," was the reply.

Lady Belward turned without a word, and slowly passed from the room.
Gaston's eyes followed the crippled figure, which yet had a rare dignity.
He had a sudden impulse. He stepped to her and said with an almost
boyish simplicity:

"You are very tired; let me carry you--grandmother."

He could hear Sir William gasp a little as he laid a quick warm hand on
hers that held the cane. She looked at him gravely, sadly, and then
said:

"I will take your arm, if you please."

He took the cane, and she put a hand towards him. He ran his strong arm
around her waist with a little humouring laugh, her hand rested on his
shoulder, and he timed his step to hers. Sir William was in an eddy of
wonder--a strong head was "mazed." He had looked for a different
reception of this uncommon kinsman. How quickly had the new-comer
conquered himself! And yet he had a slight strangeness of accent--not
American, but something which seemed unusual. He did not reckon with a
voice which, under cover of easy deliberation, had a convincing quality;
with a manner of old-fashioned courtesy and stateliness. As Mrs.
Gasgoyne had said to the rector, whose eyes had followed Gaston
everywhere in the drawing-room: