Alistair came in softly, and found his mother in tears. At the sound of his footstep on the threshold her face flushed, and she rose up, breathing fast, and went quickly to meet him, with a great joy shining in her eyes. “My boy!” she cried hysterically. “My boy Alistair!” They stood there silently for a space, with their arms round one another’s necks, and both felt comforted, for these two loved each other very tenderly, and they had not met for a long time. Such moments do not last. The first gush of affection spent, they were left face to face, two natures belonging to different worlds. While Alistair led his mother to a seat he asked anxiously: “When is Trent likely to be back? I don’t want to see him.” The Duchess looked troubled. “He won’t be in till late, I expect. He is introducing a Bill in the House to-night, and he told me not to sit up for him. I think there is another debate on first, about the Church.” Alistair heard her listlessly. The doings of the House of Lords sounded in his ears just then like the fretting of phantoms on a stage. He had struck his foot for the first time against reality. What does anyone know of life who has never risen in the morning wondering under what roof he shall lay his head at night? “But you ought to see him,” the mother went on to say. “He is your brother--neither of you should ever forget that. You want his help, dear, and I am sure he will help you if you will only let him.” “He should have helped me before,” Alistair returned in a resentful tone. “I know Trent; he would not lift a finger to save me from being hanged unless he were afraid of what people would say.” “Don’t be bitter,” the mother pleaded. “Your brother means well by you, I am sure.” “Nonsense, mother; he would be only too glad to get rid of me altogether. I have always been a thorn in his side. He looks upon me as the black sheep of the family, and always will. Trent would like to pack me off to the Klondike for the next ten years, I expect.” As this was one of the suggestions which had actually fallen from the Duke’s lips that day, when the news of his brother’s insolvency had been brought to the house, the Duchess found it difficult to answer. “Klondike would be better for you than the life you have been leading here,” she said as gently as she could. “Don’t you think it would be better for you to leave London and go abroad for a time out of the reach of temptation?” The young man frowned. He knew very well what was meant by the word “temptation.” “I can’t go without money,” he said shortly. “I could let you have a little, dear, and James, I know, will let you have as much as you want, as long as he knows that it won’t be spent”--she hesitated an instant--“in bad ways.” Alistair scowled. “What business is it of his how I spend my money?” His mother raised her hand with a certain quiet dignity.