Ireland, in his thoughtful, ponderous way, turned this matter over in his own mind. "Where is your sister now?" he asked. Mrs. Ward replied with some reserve. "I can't tell you that. She went out of her mind for a time after the murder of Mr. Vane, and after she came out of the asylum we were all afraid to live with her. My father put her under some one's charge, and when he died she was allowed an annuity. Her guardian died and my sister vanished. We made no attempt to find her, and it was supposed that she had put an end to herself." Ireland looked at Derrington. "Did you ever meet Miss Jenny Howard, my lord?" he asked. "No," said Derrington, "but I have known Mrs. Ward for many, many years." "Quite twenty," said Mrs. Ward, with an artificial laugh. "We grow old. No, Mr. Ireland, Lord Derrington never met my sister. Why you ask I cannot conceive!" "Because Lord Derrington is under a wrong impression. He has met your sister, and in this very room." "I beg your pardon," began Derrington. "I----" Ireland cut him short. "She called to see you here about the renewal of the Amelia Square lease." "Miss Bull?" said his lordship. "I thought there was something familiar about her face. So Miss Bull is Mrs. Ward's sister?" "She told me so herself," was Ireland's reply. CHAPTER XVI THE PIPE OF PEACE Brendon was much astonished a day or two later to receive an invitation to dine with his grandfather. After the somewhat stormy interview he had participated in with the old tyrant, George certainly never expected to be treated well by the man whose path he had crossed. He had heard many tales of Derrington's pride, and of his relentless pursuit of those whom he conceived had done him wrong. As George had fought the old man with his own weapons, and had come off victor, he did not expect to be pardoned. But in this he was wrong. Derrington, sickened with Walter's milk-and-water ways, saw in Brendon a worthy successor who would be able to hold his own in will and word, and would shed fresh luster on the house. Had George been polite, and what the old lord sneeringly called cringing, he would never have received the invitation. As it was, Derrington took him to his hard old heart. He chuckled to think of Walter's dismay when he heard that he had an elder cousin and would not be likely to inherit the title or the money. However astonished, Brendon was too much a man-of-the-world to reveal his feelings. On the evening in question he presented himself at the mansion in St. Giles Square, scrupulously groomed and brushed. Derrington looked approvingly on his dress, which set off a handsome figure to advantage. Also the haughty bearing of Brendon pleased him, and he unbent so far as to advance to George with outstretched hand. "We had rather a rough interview, George," he said, "so I have invited you to smoke the pipe of peace."