Sir William spoke at last.

"The main story is simple enough. Robert was extravagant, and Ian was
vicious and extravagant also. Both got into trouble. I was younger
then, and severe. Robert hid nothing, Ian all he could. One day things
came to a climax. In his wild way, Robert--with Jock Lawson--determined
to rescue a young man from the officers of justice, and to get him out of
the country. There were reasons. He was the son of a gentleman; and, as
we discovered afterwards, Robert had been too intimate with the wife--his
one sin of the kind, I believe. Ian came to know, and prevented the
rescue. Meanwhile, Robert was liable to the law for the attempt. There
was a bitter scene here, and I fear that my wife and I said hard things
to Robert."

Gaston's eyes were on Lady Belward's portrait. "What did my grandmother
say?"

There was a pause, then:

"That she would never call him son again, I believe; that the shadow of
his life would be hateful to her always. I tell you this because I see
you look at that portrait. What I said, I think, was no less. So,
Robert, after a wild burst of anger, flung away from us out of the house.
His mother, suddenly repenting, ran to follow him, but fell on the stone
steps at the door, and became a cripple for life. At first she remained
bitter against Robert, and at that time Ian painted that portrait. It is
clever, as you may see, and weird. But there came a time when she kept
it as a reproach to herself, not Robert. She is a good woman--a very
good woman. I know none better, really no one."