"Efface himself, Lord Spunyarn? I know the boy, the orphan boy; he was my husband's child; and with all his faults I love him; he will never consent to that; he would die first," said Reginald Haggard's widow. "And die he must, I mean socially. There is no other way." "He will never consent, Lord Spunyarn," repeated the widow. "He is wrapped up in the fact that he is Lord Pit Town's heir. With George it is different; he is my own son, my very son," she added bitterly, "and, if I wish it, he will give up everything for my sake and his father's; his father's honour is as dear to him as it is to me. Besides, my husband evidently foresaw the dilemma in which he has placed us, and made the boy his heir." "But justice, dear lady, justice----" "Justice, Lord Spunyarn," cried the indignant woman as she rose to her feet. "God's justice, do you mean, or man's? Is it not enough that my husband should have betrayed and befooled me for twenty years, and should have robbed my boy of his very heritage, and more than that, of half the treasure of a mother's love? For I tell you, strange and unnatural as it may seem, that I love Lucius; ay, I love him, though he is poor Lucy's child and my husband's bastard. And who could help loving the poor helpless, friendless, neglected child? Yes, I acted the love at first, Lord Spunyarn, and it grew upon me till it became a part of myself. Is it for nothing, that when my husband was bleeding to death before my very eyes, that he bade me take care of Lucius? I have been a faithful and obedient wife, Lord Spunyarn, and I will obey my husband's last behest to the letter. I will protect his son's interests and his son's rights." "Alas, he has no rights, dear madam," said Spunyarn gently. "The secret, Lord Spunyarn, is not yours or mine; it is my husband's and hers," she added, pointing to the box. "When she made me swear to keep her secret, she threatened to haunt me should I betray her. How could I answer her? It was a girl's idle jest, I know; but I did swear it, God knows how unwillingly, and Heaven help me I will keep my oath. Yes, I will keep my oath," here she sank into a chair, and covering her face with her hands, wept bitterly. Lord Spunyarn paced the room in doubt. He was a man of principle, a religious man, a man of honour--strange combination forsooth in this nineteenth century, and he remembered that his mouth was closed. But was he, a good man, to stand idly by and see a great wrong done? Was he to see the honours and title of a noble family descend to a bastard through the secret machinations of an artful woman? Heaven forbid! "Think it over, dear madam, think it over," he said; "let me beg you, at least, to sleep on it, and God give you counsel," he added in a broken voice, and then leaving the little red box and its contents upon the table where it lay, he hurriedly left the room.