“If he does that, he shall never have another farthing from me; I will never acknowledge him again!” “His infatuation for her is terrible,” the mother went on. “He even defended her to me. He told me that she had made sacrifices for him--that she was paying for the house.” The two men exchanged glances. This was a deeper depth than either of them had suspected. Perhaps the Duchess would have suppressed this part of her information if she had understood how it would strike a man. “Is there no chance that the woman herself may give him up now?” The Duchess shook her head doubtfully. “I should think not, from what he says. I hardly know what it is best to do. I think perhaps he might be induced to give an undertaking not to marry her, in return for some assistance.” The Home Secretary made a face of disgust. “So I am to be blackmailed, am I? I have to bribe my brother not to make a street-girl the next Duchess of Colonsay.” Prince Herbert looked distressed. “Are you sure that is the right way to go to work with Alistair?” he asked gently. “I have always believed that there was good in him, you know. Perhaps if you tried to appeal to his generosity you might do more than you suppose.” Alistair’s mother gave the speaker a grateful look. “Thank you, Bertie. It is very good of you to plead for my poor boy. I think, James dear, you may have been a little harsh with him sometimes.” “If you were to go to him now,” the Prince pursued, “not to scold him at all, but just to say, ‘Well, old fellow, you’re in a mess; let’s see if I can get you out,’ I think you would find him very different to deal with.” The elder brother still frowned. “You don’t know Alistair as well as I do. He would most likely insult me. The last time I wrote to him, nearly a year ago, enclosing his allowance, and pointing out to him how the life he was leading was bound to end, he wrote back to me--my mother saw the note: ‘Dear Jim, your cheques are better than your sermons. Affectionately, Alistair.’” Prince Herbert by a severe effort checked the smile which rose to his lips. “After all, he is your brother,” he reminded the aggrieved senior. “I’m sure I don’t know why he should be,” the Duke muttered, but he let his voice drop at the sight of his mother’s sorrowful face. “I would see him myself,” the Prince added, “only I have to leave for Birmingham to-morrow to lay the foundation stone of a cathedral, and I am under engagements which will keep me in the district for several days.” The Duchess rose and walked across the room to where her son was seated, tapping a fretful foot upon the floor. She laid her hand on his arm, and looked him beseechingly in the face. “My son, my eldest son!” she murmured softly. “You need not be jealous of the poor prodigal. Say that you will go?” And James said that he would go. * * * * * That night Alistair’s mother did not sleep.