"What do you say, my dear--another of those mad fits of excitement as soon as my name's mentioned? Oh, it's too bad. I don't think I've ever been rake enough to deserve it. Well, whether or no, I must go and see him. I can't stop away. I'm his eldest son, and a man's a man even if he is a common soldier, and has disgraced himself in the eyes of society." "Fred dear, I'm broken-hearted," sobbed Claire, as she nestled close to her brother, and hid her face in his breast, neither seeing nor hearing Mr and Mrs Barclay open the door and cross the room, the latter making a sign to the dragoon not to take any notice of them, and as soon as she was alone with her husband, saying indignantly: "The scandalous old hags, making out that the poor dear was carrying on with a common soldier. Lor'! Jo-si-ah, what a little wickedness there would seem to be in the world if everything was properly explained." "Well, I don't know so much about that," replied Barclay. "Perhaps we should find out some of the very innocent ones were not so good as they seemed." "I shall go on at once and see the old man," said Fred Denville, kissing his sister tenderly. "I can't stop away. The old fellow will be calmer perhaps to-day; and, Claire, my girl, I'm going to try and get my discharge, and start a new life. It's a strange thing if I can't keep a home for you and take care of you. I can't stand this soldiering any longer. Servant to that blackguard, Rockley! Has he spoken to you lately?" "No, Fred," said Claire wearily. "No." "I can't stand it, girl. It's a shame to talk of my beggarly troubles now, but it's precious hard to be meeting one's own brother--one's superior officer--and him not to know me. Has Morton been to see father?" "N-no, dear; not yet." "Curse him!" "Fred!--dear Fred!" "Well, no, I won't curse him. It's the boy's training, not his nature. He ought not to cut the poor old man, though, in his disgrace. Claire, damn it all; I don't believe father killed that old thing." He looked at his sister with a quick intelligent gaze, full of conviction; but as he met her full in the eyes, and saw the change that came over her countenance, the conviction seemed blunted, and he shuddered. "She believes it!" he muttered. Then aloud: "Why, Claire!" "Hush--don't--don't speak to me--don't say anything," she panted. "Fred, shall I be dragged before the judge and be forced to answer questions--horrible questions?" He was silent. "You believe I shall. You think I shall," she panted. "Oh, Fred, Fred, I would sooner die." He drew a long breath, and looked at her in a horrified way, while she seemed to be growing wild with dread. "I could not bear it," she cried, "to go up before those people and condemn my own father. It would be too horrible. It would be against nature. I could not, I would not speak."