“Who’s that you were speaking to, Leslie?” Arthur Gwyn was lying in a deck chair on the lawn, his eye covered with a piece of white lint. “Thomas,” she said. “The footman from Fossaway? What did he bring--a message?” “No, he’s been discharged,” she said as she passed him. “Dick suspects him of stealing, and he sent him about his business this morning.” “Have you seen Dick, then?” he asked in surprise. “Yes, I met him; he was riding over to see the miller.” She lingered at the back of the chair. “You always seem to be meeting that fellow,” he mused, with a frown. “It is ‘Dick this’ and ‘Dick that.’ Do you think it’s wise, Leslie, playing with fire and all that sort of thing? You never tell me you meet Harry----” “Harry never comes out of his library,” she said with a smile, “and it’s difficult to miss Dick if you’re out of doors. Not that I’ve ever tried to miss him.” He took out his cigarette and looked at it thoughtfully, his lips pursed. “Dick’s a good fellow,” he said again, “and it is unnecessary for me to remind you that he is a second son, and as poor as a church mouse. Yes, Leslie, I’m going to insist on that poverty. After all, you’re not marrying a pauper in Harry. And I tell you frankly that it is necessary that you should marry a rich man!” The truth was coming--she braced herself to meet it. “Who will also take my fortune on trust,” she said quietly. “If I married Dick, who is a business man, he might ask to see my bonds and shares----” A tense moment of silence, then: “There are no bonds or shares!” He had to set his teeth to make his confession. He could not see her face; he dared not look round or meet her eyes. “There are no bonds or shares?” she repeated slowly. “Then what I said in the car was right? I am penniless!” XXXV The truth was out. Leslie stood rigidly behind her brother, looking down on him. “I am penniless!” she repeated. He had to wet his dry lips before he could speak. “I’ve been trying to work up courage to tell you this for a long time,” he said. “I’m a coward--a cur! You have a few thousand pounds that I couldn’t handle, but every other penny of your fortune I have spent!” His voice was hoarse, scarcely recognizable. “You’ll have to know this sooner or later; you might as well know it now. I don’t know what you’ll think of me. I’d like to say that I didn’t care, but that wouldn’t be the truth. I’ve gambled away a quarter of a million, and I’m as near to bankruptcy and ruin as makes no difference.” He pulled the lint bandage from his eye and got up and faced her. Save for the discolouration of his cheek, he was white as chalk. “I’d no intention of telling you,” he said in a low voice, “but you piqued me into it, and I’m glad it’s over.” Raising his eyes to hers, he did not see the look of condemnation he expected. There was neither contempt nor consternation in her face. The red lips were curved in a half-smile, and in her eyes was nothing but kindliness and pity.