Paul's impetuous passion cooled suddenly. "I have made you atonement," he said, faintly, and dropped into a seat. "Atonement!" Hugh Ritson smiled bitterly. "When you return you will see," said Paid, his eyes once more on the ground. "You are thinking of the deed of attorney--I have heard of it already," said Hugh. A cold smile played on his compressed lips. "It was all that was left to do," said Paul, his voice hardly stronger than a whisper. His proud spirit was humbled, and his challenge dead. "Paul, you have robbed me of my inheritance, consciously, deliberately. You have stood in my place. You stand there still. And you leave me your pitiful deed by way of amends!" A black frown crossed Hugh Ritson's face. "Atonement! Are you not ashamed of such mockery? What atonement is there for a wrong like that?" "I did it for the best; God knows I did!" said Paul, his head fell on the table. Hugh Ritson stood over him, pale with suppressed wrath. "Was it best to hold my place until my place was no longer worth holding, and then to leave it with an empty show of generosity? Power of attorney! What right have you to expect that I will take that from you? Take my own from the man who robbed me of it, and to receive it back on my knees! To accept it as a gift, whereof the generosity of giving is yours, and the humility of receiving is mine!" A strong shudder passed over Paul's shoulders. "I was helpless--I was helpless!" he said. "Understand your true position--your legal position. You were your mother's illegitimate son--" "I did it to protect her honor!" "You mean--to hide her shame!" "As you will. I was helpless, and I did it for the best." Hugh Ritson's face grew dark. "Was it best to be a perjured liar?" he said. Paul gasped, but did not reply. "Was it best to be a thief?" Paul leaped to his feet. "God, give me patience!" he muttered. "Was it best to be an impostor?" "Stop, for God's sake, stop!" "Was it best to be a living lie--and all for the sake of honor? Honor, forsooth! Is it in perjury and robbery that honor lies?" Paul strode about the room in silence, ashy pale, his face convulsed and ugly. Then his countenance softened, and his voice was broken as he said: "Hugh, I have done you too much wrong already. Don't drive me into more; don't, don't, I beseech you!" Hugh laughed lightly--a little trill that echoed in the silent room. At that heartless sound all the soul in Paul Ritson seemed to freeze. No longer abashed, he lifted his head and put his foot down firmly. "So be it," he said, and the cloud of anguish fell from his face. "I say it was to save our mother's good name that I consented to do what I did." "Consented?" said Hugh, elevating his eyelids.