have money to pay their bills, Richard and Isabey managed to squander their respective allowances in plenty of time to know the conventional delights of impecuniosity before their next checks arrived. The stories of their student days were infinitely diverting, and so linked were the two that Isabey’s personality actually seemed to have a place at Harrowby. Between war and politics, it was one o’clock in the morning before Neville, rising, said: “The fire is out and so are the cigars. I have been traveling for two days, so I shall go to bed. Good night.” He went out of the room and Lyddon watching him was struck, as he often was, at the resemblance in the air and figure of the two brothers, while their faces and voices were so dissimilar that they gave no indication of a blood relationship. As Neville closed the door behind him, Richard turning to Lyddon said significantly, “Neville will not resign from the army when the war breaks out.” Lyddon remained silent for five minutes and then replied, “That is the most tragic thing I have heard for a long time.” “Yes,” said Richard. “It will break my father’s heart and my mother’s, too.” “Has Neville told you that he didn’t mean to resign?” asked Lyddon. “Not in so many words, but on our way here this afternoon he made me understand it. You know we have always understood each other perfectly without going into details.” “Yes, I have never seen two men with a better understanding than you and your brother. And it seems never to have been interrupted.” “Well, we don’t need to thresh things out, Neville and I. He was always rather a silent fellow and a word from him means a good deal. I am quite certain he feels that this is perhaps his last visit to Harrowby and also he knows that whoever may turn against him, I shall not, but I shall be probably the only one who will not.” “Except Angela,” said Lyddon coolly. “I always thought that Neville’s fondness for Angela would develop into a strong passion as soon as she was grown and I saw it to-night with my own eyes, but nobody else did, unless it be yourself.” “I saw it. Neville’s face turned red when he kissed Angela on the cheek and Neville is not given to blushing. However, I am by no means certain that Angela will stand by him. She is like most of our Southern women--a creature outwardly all impulse, inwardly of the most fixed and determined character. It is a chance whether love or patriotism will win the day.” “Yes, it depends upon whether she falls in love with Neville or not. Come, the fire is out, let us go. It is already Christmas day.” CHAPTER III THE POINT OF HONOR