'Lady Rhyader,' he said, suddenly and sternly. 'Yes, Lord Festiniog.'

'Have you done your duty by this boy?'

'No,' she said. 'You always made the boy jealous of us. How could we possibly do our duty by him?'

Lord Festiniog had never looked on it in that light before. He said,

'I should not have looked on the matter in that light myself.'

'Without doubt,' said Lady Rhyader, determined to win every point she could possibly score, but wondering what would be the next one.

'Well, let bygones be bygones, let us take care of the boy. You stay with him, I must go and break the news to Mary Arnaud.' And so he went out to Lord Rhyader, leaving mother and son together.

'What, on earth, has Mary Arnaud got to do with it?' thought Lady Rhyader. But there was the boy, delirious in his bed, calling out for that woman and not for his own mother.

CHAPTER XXVII,

THE VANITY OF HUMAN WISHES.

HE found Lord Rhyader alone, walking up and down the room, and a very important conversation ensued between them.

'I have made light of your boy's case to Alice, Gervase,' he said, 'but there is no doubt whatever that he is extremely ill, and it is very doubtful if he will live to be a man. You must really rouse yourself to look facts in the face. The boy has undergone horrors and privations which have half killed those strong sailors who have brought him home. Do you know that a mutinous part of the boat's crew wanted to

'Well?'

'Well,-wanted to kill the boy for a horrible purpose. It was only by the resolution of two or three that he was saved. And he knew it, for he heard them talking about it, and he will, it is feared, never get it out of his head any more; such shocks are not felt at his time of life without permanent results.'

'I am deeply grieved, father, but I do not share your fears to this extent which you speak of. I cannot understand your anxiety.'

'It is real, however,' said Lord Festiniog. ‘I loved the boy, I think, better than you did.'

'I will not argue that point, father,' said Gervase. 'If you loved him so much, why did you insist on his going abroad with his only rival?'

'I sent him abroad to keep him out of mischief. I sent him abroad with George Arnaud because I trusted the young man. He has gloriously ful

filled his trust.'

'By bringing back my boy an idiot,' said Lord Rhyader.

'Bringing?'

'Yes. I suppose he has taken care of himself?' 'George! Have you not heard? George went down with the ship, and saved the boy at the sacrifice of his own life!'

'Good heavens !'

Lord Rhyader was silent for some time. He was a just man, and his regret at having been so unjust to George was great. 'You are sure of this?' he said.

'Hear for yourself; ask one of the sailors in. Send in George Horrocks,' he said to a waiter who was in the room.

A sailor came in. 'My son, Lord Rhyader,'

said Lord Festiniog, 'wishes to ask you a question or two. Your general evidence will be given before the Board, of course, but answer him what he asks you.'

'I wanted to know if Mr. Drummond could have saved his own life, if he had deserted the boy whom he dropped into the boat?'

'Most certainly, sir,' said the sailor; 'half-adozen times over. The boy was frightened and would not jump, and so, he gave up his own life for the boy's, fair and square. No doubt about that.'

'And you saw him drowned after, with no attempt to save him?'

'We had done all that it was possible for men to do. We kept near her until she went down, in hopes that some one might rise, but I need hardly say that no one did. We incurred great danger by not keeping the boat's head straight before the wind, at once, as you would know, my lord, if you were a sailor.'

'I beg your pardon,' said Lord Rhyader. 'I have no doubt that everything was done. I wish you a good afternoon,' and the man went.

There is the end,' said Lord Festiniog; 'the end of a good family, too.'

'If Barri dies.'

'Well, his life is very problematical. In case of

his death, the entailed property all goes to you, and, I suppose, afterwards to some religious estabI am more sorry than ever about

lishment.

George.'

'You seem to think more of him than you do of Barri, now.'

'There you do me an injustice, as usual, Rhyader. I have a stronger personal feeling for the boy than ever I had for poor George Arnaud. I loved the boy better than ever you did. My feeling for him is one thing, my feeling for the extinction of our family is another.'

'The remedy lies entirely in your own hands, father,' said Rhyader. 'Alice will live to any age, and have no more children. The remedy lies with yourself.'

'I do not see how.' 'Marry, yourself.'

Lord Festiniog kept steady on his feet, but, morally, he reeled as this proposition was made to him. He had not thought of such a thing for thirty years. Was Rhyader mad?

Apparently not. He was most perfectly cool over the matter, and appeared in earnest. He repeated,

'Marry, yourself.'

'But you would not approve that,' said Lord Festiniog.

P