"I should think that they would have the good taste to begin a new
window for themselves," said Tom.

Then he was silent for a while, and they watched the moonlight streaming
through the painted window, the memorial of so much forgotten grandeur,
and illumining the portraits of many a dead Outram that gazed upon them
from the panelled walls.

"_Per ardua ad astra_," said Tom, absently reading the family motto
which alternated pretty regularly with a second device that some members
of it had adopted--"For Heart, Home, and Honour."

"'_Per ardua ad astra_'--through struggle to the stars--and 'For Heart,
Home, and Honour,'" repeated Tom; "well, I think that our family never
needed such consolations more, if indeed there are any to be found in
mottoes. Our Heart is broken, our hearth is desolate, and our honour is
a byword, but there remain the 'struggle and the stars.'"

As he spoke his face took the fire of a new enthusiasm: "Leonard,"
he went on, "why should not we retrieve the past? Let us take that
motto--the more ancient one--for an omen, and let us fulfil it. I
believe it is a good omen, I believe that one of us will fulfil it."

"We can try," answered Leonard. "If we fail in the struggle, at least
the stars remain for us as for all human kind."

"Leonard," said his brother almost in a whisper, "will you swear an oath
with me? It seems childish, but I think that under some circumstances
there is wisdom even in childishness."