"It's your old grandmother coming out." Frank stared. "Grandmother?" "Yes--old Mrs. Kelly." Frank laughed suddenly and loudly. "By George!" he said, "I daresay it is. Old Grandmamma Kelly! She was a gipsy--so she was. I believe you've hit it, Jack. Let's see: she was my grandfather's second wife, wasn't she?" Jack nodded. "And he picked her up off the roads on his own estate. Wasn't she trespassing, or something?" Jack nodded again. "Yes," he said, "and he was a magistrate and ought to have committed her: And he married her instead. She was a girl, traveling with her parents." Frank sat smiling genially. "That's it," he said. "Then I'm bound to make a success of it." And he took another cigarette. Then one more thought came to Jack: he had determined already to make use of it if necessary, and somehow this seemed to be the moment. "And Jenny Launton," he said "I suppose you've thought of her?" A curious look came into Frank's eyes--a look of great gravity and tenderness--and the humor died out. He said nothing for an instant. Then he drew out of his breast-pocket a letter in an envelope, and tossed it gently over to Jack. "I'm telling her in that," he said. "I'm going to post it to-night, after I've seen the Dean." Jack glanced down at it. "MISS LAUNTON, "The Rectory, "Merefield, Yorks." ran the inscription. He turned it over; it was fastened and sealed. "I've told her we must wait a bit," said Frank, "and that I'll write again in a few weeks." Jack was silent. "And you think it's fair on her?" he asked deliberately. Frank's face broke up into humor. "That's for her to say," he observed. "And, to tell the truth, I'm not at all afraid." "But a gamekeeper's wife! And you a Catholic!" "Ah! you don't know Jenny," smiled Frank. "Jenny and I quite understand one another, thank you very much." "But is it quite fair?" "Good Lord!" shouted Frank, suddenly roused. "Fair! What the devil does it matter? Don't you know that all's fair--under certain circumstances? I do bar that rotten conventionalism. We're all rotten--rotten, I tell you; and I'm going to start fresh. So's Jenny. Kindly don't talk of what you don't understand." He stood up, stretching. Then he threw the end of his cigarette away. "I must go to the Dean," he said. "It's close on the half-hour." (III)