"Saw them together down-stairs," Richard declared. "I'm off in a moment to see if I can get hold of Crawshay and shake his hand.--So you're Sir Denis Cathley, eh, and you've chucked that other game altogether?" "Naturally," the other replied--"Sir Denis Jocelyn Cathley. As a matter of fact, I am up in town to arrange for some one else to take my place at the Convention. I am not much use as a maker of laws. They've promised me a commission in the Irish Guards. That will be settled in a few days. Then I shall go back home to see what I can do amongst my tenantry, and afterwards--well," he concluded, with a little gleam in his dark eyes, "they promise me I shall go out with the first drafts of the new battalion." Richard gripped his friend's hand once again and turned towards the door. "It's great!" he declared. "I must try and catch Crawshay before he goes." He hurried out. The door was closed. Sir Denis turned at once towards Katharine. He rose to his feet and leaned over her chair. His voice was not quite so steady. "So much that I had thought lost for ever," he said, "has come back to me. So much that I had never thought to realise in this world seems to be coming true. Is it too late for me to ask for the one greatest thing of all of the only person who could count--who ever has counted? You know so well, Katharine, that even as a soured and disappointed man I loved you, and now it is just you, and you only, who could give me--what I want in life." She laid her fingers upon his shoulders. Her eyes shone as he drew her into his arms. "I ought to keep you waiting such a long time," she murmured, "because I had to ask you first--for your friendship, and you weren't very kind to die. But I can't."