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with the conviction that all earth and humanity and the destinies had done him bitter wrong. When, long after midnight, he returned to his rooms, they were a solitude. Janet was gone. She had not left a written word behind her to say wherefore she had gone, or whither. But the rooms were empty; Janet was gone.

CHAPTER VIII.

6 'TIS A QUICK LIE: 'TWILL AWAY AGAIN.'

MAJOR LEVEN sat in his study annotating a Blue-book and marking passages for extract from it. He was making up a formidable case against the Foreign Office, and he was full of the present effort and the joy of the coming strife. Suddenly his wife broke in upon him. Her appearance in that room was unusual. Mrs. Leven always considered it a part of the formal dignity of her position as a wife not to show any familiarity with the occupations of her husband, and not to follow him into his study. She thought it became man and wife to be habitually apart. Therefore, when Major Leven saw her enter, he knew that there was matter in it. She really looked alarmed and agitated to a degree that was uncommon indeed with her.

6

George, look at that letter-read that!'

She handed him Paulina's letter, just come to hand. He read it over, growing more and more perturbed as he read. I don't understand this,' he said, and he applied himself to read it all over again. It was not very long. Mrs. Leven sat down and waited.

'Stuff!' Major Leven exclaimed at last, throwing the epistle contemptuously on the table.

'You don't believe it, George?'

'Not a word of it. It's all rubbish-it's a weak invention of the enemy,' he added, under the erroneous impression that he was quoting from the writings of William Shakespeare. Fancy this young fellow being your son, Philip Vanthorpe!'

'I don't know, George; my mind misgave me the first moment I saw him. I disliked him from the first, although then I knew no reason why.'

'But, good heavens! Constance, you don't really mean to say that you think your dislike of him is evidence that he must be your son?'

'I do,' Mrs. Leven answered solemnly.

"I have

reason to dislike my son-good reason; and the moment I first saw this man, I disliked him. George, I believe this woman's story.'

Major Leven rose, and walked up and down the room. He was distressed by this evidence of implacable and what seemed to him unnatural feeling. He could understand hatred of a wicked minister or a plotting despot; but he could not understand private hates; above all, he could not understand a mother's hatred for her son. He did not lecture her or scold her. They had married in such an impulsive way, and they had got on together so quietly, and as it were by virtue of a tacit compromise, making the best of the thing when done, that they hardly felt like husband and wife. Mrs. Leven's sentiments, however much they pained him, seemed to Leven like the talk of some wrong-headed lady of his acquaintance which he could only regret and mildly deprecate, but for which he was not responsible, and which he could not attempt to control.

'At any rate, Constance,' he said, with some anger in his tone, I can tell you that your instincts and presentiments in this case set you quite astray. This young man is the son of old Sir Jacob Fielding, and no one else. I knew him the very moment I first set eyes on him. I'm never mistaken in recognising faces.'

'I always felt a doubt of him,' Mrs. Leven said decisively. Only the other day I told that mad girl myself that I thought that young man was just such another as my son Philip, and that I didn't believe he was Sir Wilberforce Fielding's brother.'

'What do you propose to do?' he asked abruptly. 'I propose to do nothing, George.'

'Hadn't you better send for this young man?'

'No, George. Why should I send for him? If he is not my son, I don't want to see him; if he is my son, I want all the less to see him. I have nothing to do with the whole affair. But you, perhaps, who think more of that mad girl than I do-you might see her and advise her for her own sake to be careful now. She is standing on the brink of a precipice. If this man is my unfortunate son

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But he isn't, Constance, I can assure you.'

'Whoever he is, this woman claims him for her

husband.'

'Yes, that's quite true,' Major Leven acknowledged, in much distress. Gabrielle must be seen at once. This is a terrible business; I don't believe a word of it; but still-one can't be too careful; and she is so

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