When Usk returned to England, he found his parents in London, established in a corner of the vast mansion which had been built by Lord Caerleon’s grandfather, the Peninsular General, and much adorned by his son, the Crimean hero, in the palmy days of landowning. Both these veterans took a keen professional interest in battle-pictures, and had embellished Caerleon House with many square yards of warlike frescoes, which their civilian descendant sometimes wished had been painted on canvas, so that they could be removed and sold. When his father’s death, or, strictly speaking, the duties consequent thereon, left Lord Caerleon unable to keep up two establishments, he succeeded in letting the town house on a long lease to a Northern magnate who had made a fortune in sugar-refining, but now sugar, as well as land, had fallen upon evil days. The house was on its owner’s hands once more, and it was cheaper to encamp in some of the smaller rooms than to live in lodgings, especially since Lady Caerleon’s chief desire was for a drawing-room which she could lend for meetings. Thus, while in the state apartments the blinds remained down, and the furniture looked ghostly in holland wrappings, Usk and his parents lived and worked, interviewed political friends and opponents, and furthered various religious and philanthropic schemes, in the modest suite traditionally allotted to the heir of the house, and called the Viscount’s rooms. It did not occur to them to feel ashamed of their obvious poverty, and they found pleasure in entertaining the few, chiefly old friends or fellow-workers, who did not consider that stinted means and lack of “smartness” placed the Caerleons beyond the pale of decent society. As for Usk, he threw himself so completely into his parents’ interests that he had no time to think even of running down to Llandiarmid, and thus the peace of mind of Gwladys and Myfanwy Jones remained undisturbed. Lord Caerleon’s Temperance measure had hitherto escaped the different snares and pitfalls in its path, and was rapidly nearing the goal which was the usual fate of the Bills he brought forward--a piteous request from the Government for its withdrawal, since to press it further would jeopardise the success of the complete and carefully drawn scheme of reform which His Majesty’s Ministers intended to introduce next session. It is a striking instance of the vanity of human wishes that never in any case did the next session see the introduction of such a Bill. This was the state of affairs when one afternoon, about the middle of April, Cyril walked into Caerleon House, and found his brother and sister-in-law in the great desolate conservatory, which was sparsely sprinkled with pots of flowers sent up from Llandiarmid. Lady Caerleon thought the conservatory the most country-like place in the house; and her husband preferred it because to smoke in any of the other rooms seemed like sacrilege.