with a mild face, rather expressionless. His hair and eyes were brown. He was irreproachably dressed, and did not appear to have much brain power. Also, from the expression of his eyes he was of a sly nature. Finally, Mr. Beryl was guarded in his speech, being quite of the opinion that speech was given to hide thoughts. He saluted his uncle affectionately, kissed Lucy's cheek in a cold way, and sat down to observe what a damp, dull day it was and how bad for Sir Simon's rheumatism. A more colorless, timid, meek young saint it would have been hard to find in the whole of London.
"I have brought you some special snuff," he said, extending a packet to his host. "It comes from Taberley's."
"Ah, thank you. I know the shop. A very good one! Do you get your cigars there, Julius?"
"I never smoke," corrected the good young man, coldly.
Sir Simon sneered. "You never do anything manly," he said contemptuously. "Well, why are you here?"
"I wish, with your permission, to take Lucy to the theatre on Friday," said Mr. Beryl. "Mrs. Webber is going with me, and she can act as chaperon."
"I should think she needed one herself. A nasty, flirting little cat of a woman," said Sir Simon, rudely. "Would you like to go, Lucy?"
"If you don't mind, uncle."
"Bah!" said the old man with a snarl. "How good you two are. Where is the theatre, Julius?"
"Near at hand. The Curtain Theatre."
"Ah! That's only two streets away. What is the play?"
"As You Like It, by—"
"By Chaucer, I suppose," snapped the old man. "Don't you think I know my Shakespeare? What time will you call for Lucy?"
"At half-past seven in the carriage with Mrs. Webber."
"Your own carriage?"
"I am not rich enough to afford one," said Julius, smiling. "Mrs. Webber's carriage, uncle. We will call for Lucy and bring her back safely at eleven or thereabouts."
"Very good; but no suppers, mind. I don't approve of Mrs. Webber taking Lucy to the Cecil or the Savoy."
"There is no danger of that, uncle," said Lucy, delighted at gaining permission.
"I hope not," said the old man ungraciously. "You can go, Lucy. I want to speak to Julius."
A look, unseen by the baronet, passed between the two, and then Lucy left the room. When alone, Sir Simon turned to his nephew. "Where is Bernard?" he asked.
A less clever man than Julius would have fenced and feigned surprise, but this astute young gentleman answered at once. "He has enlisted in the Imperial Yeomanry and goes out to the war in a month."
Sir Simon turned pale and rose. "He must not—he must not," he said, considerably agitated. "He will be killed, and then—"
"What does it matter?" said Julius coolly—"you have disinherited him—at least, I understand so."
"He defied me," shivered the baronet, warming his hands again and with a pale face; "but I did not think he would enlist. I won't have him go to the war. He must be bought out."
"I think he would refuse to be bought out now," said Beryl, dryly. "I don't fancy Bernard, whatever his faults, is a coward."
"My poor boy!" said Sir Simon, who was less hard than he looked. "It is your fault that this has happened, Julius."
"Mine, uncle?"
"Yes. You told me about Miss Malleson."
"I knew you would not approve of the match," said Julius, quietly.
"And you wanted me to cut off Bernard with a shilling—"
"Not for my own sake," said Julius, calmly. "You need not leave a penny to me, Sir Simon."
"Don't you want the money? It's ten thousand a year."
"I should like it very much," assented Beryl, frankly; "but I do not want it at the price of my self-respect."
The old man looked at him piercingly, but could learn nothing from his inscrutable countenance. But he did not trust Julius in spite of his meek looks, and inwardly resolved to meet craft by craft. He bore a grudge against this young man for having brought about the banishment of his grandson, and felt inclined to punish him. Yet if Julius did not want the money, Sir Simon did not know how to wound him. Yet he doubted if Julius scorned wealth so much as he pretended; therefore he arranged how to circumvent him.
"Very well," he said, "since Bernard has disobeyed me, you alone can be my heir. You will have the money without any loss of your self-respect. Come with me this morning to see Durham."
"I am at your service, uncle," said Julius, quietly, although his eyes flashed. "But Bernard?"
"We can talk of him later. Come!"
The attentive Beryl helped Sir Simon on with his overcoat and wrapped a muffler round his throat. Then he went out to select a special four-wheeler instead of sending the page-boy. When he was absent, Mrs. Gilroy appeared in the hall where Sir Simon waited, and, seeing he was alone, came close to him.
"Sir," she said quietly, "this girl Jane has described the young man's looks who comes to see her."
"Well! well! well!"
"The young man—the soldier," said Mrs. Gilroy, with emphasis—"has come only since we arrived here. Jane met him a week before our arrival, and since we have been in the house this soldier has visited her often."
"What has all this to do with me?" asked Sir Simon.
"Because she described the looks of the soldier. Miss Randolph says he is an Imperial Yeoman."
Sir Simon started. "Has Miss Randolph seen him?" he asked.
"No. She only goes by what I said this morning to you. But the description, Sir Simon—" Here Mrs. Gilroy sank her voice to a whisper and looked around—"suits Mr. Gore."
"Bernard! Ah!" Sir Simon caught hold of a chair to steady himself. "Why—what—yes. Julius said he was an Imperial Yeoman and—"
"And he comes here to see the housemaid," said Mrs. Gilroy, nodding.
"To spy out the land," cried the baronet, in a rage. "Do you think that my grandson would condescend to housemaids? He comes to learn how I am disposed—if I am ill. The money—the money—all self—self—self!" He clenched his hand as the front door opened. "Good-bye, Mrs. Gilroy, if you see this Imperial Yeoman, say I am making a new will," and with a sneer Sir Simon went out.
Mrs. Gilroy looked up to heaven and caught sight of Lucy listening on the stairs.
CHAPTER III
THE
