engagement to his cousin, Inez. Only something--not the bare ugly
truth of his own treachery. The soap-boiler's daughter was more noble
of soul than the baronet. Gentle as she was, she would have despised
him thoroughly had she known the truth.

"This secrecy has lasted long enough," Lady Catheron said, a
resolute-looking expression crossing her pretty, soft-cut mouth. "The
time has come when you must speak. Don't make me think you are ashamed
of me, or afraid of her. Take me home--it is my right; acknowledge
your son--it is _his_. When there was only I, it did not so much
matter--it is different now."

She lifted one of baby's dots of hands, and kissed it. And Sir Victor,
his face hidden in the shadow of the curtains, his voice husky, made
answer:

"You are right, Ethel--you always are. As soon as you both can travel,
my wife and child shall come home with me to Catheron Royals."

Just three weeks later, as the August days were ending, came that last
letter from Inez, commanding his return. His hour had come. He took
the next morning train, and went forth to meet the woman he feared and
had wronged.

* * * * *

The afternoon sun drops lower. If Sir Victor returns from Cheshire
to-day, Lady Catheron knows he will be here in a few minutes. She
looked at her watch a little wearily. The days are very long and
lonely without him. Looks up again, her eyes alight. A hansom has