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"You think so, madam?" was all he could find to say.
"I do, sir. And something more, which, perhaps, you will deem animpertinence. Is Anthony your brother?"
The suddenness of the attack threw Carstares off his guard. He wentwhite.
"Madam!"
"Please be not afraid that mine is the proverbial woman's tongue, sir.It does not run away with me, I assure you. When I saw you the othernight for the first time, I was struck by the resemblance, and I askedmy partner, Mr. Stapely, who you were. He told me, and much more beside,which I was not at the time desirous of hearing."
"Trust Will Stapely!" exclaimed Richard, and mentally cursed the amiablegossip-monger.
"Among other things he told me of your elder brother-who--who--in fact,he told me the whole story. Of course, my mind instantly leapt to mypoor Sir Anthony, despite that in appearance he is younger than you. WasI right?"
Richard rose to his feet and walked away to the window, standing withhis back to her.
"Ay!"
"I was sure of it," she nodded. "So that was why he would not speak ofEngland? Poor boy!"
Richard's soul writhed under the lash of her pity.
"So he will always be outcast," she continued. "Alone, unhappy, withoutfriends--"
"No!" he cried, turning. "'Fore Gad, no, madam!"
"Will society--cruel, hard society--receive him, then?" she asked.
"Society will--one day--receive him, Mrs. Fanshawe. You will see."
"I long for that day," she sighed. "I wish I had it in my power to helphim--to repay in part the debt I owe him."
At that he lifted his head.
"My brother, madam, would count it not a debt, but an honour," heanswered proudly.
"Yes," she smiled. "You are like him; when you speak like that you mightalmost be he."
"He is worth a thousand of me, Mrs. Fanshawe!" he replied vehemently,and broke off, staring down at the table.
"And his name?" she asked softly.
"John Anthony St. Ervine Delaney Carstares," he said, "Earl of Wyncham."
"So the Anthony was real! I am so glad, for he would always be Anthonyto me."
There was a long silence, broken at last by the lady.
"I fear I have made you sad, Mr. Carstares. You will drink a dish ofBohea with me, before you go? And we will not speak of this again."
"You are very good, madam. Believe me, I am grateful to you for tellingme all that you have. I beg you will allow me to wait on you again erelong?"
"I shall be honoured, sir. I am nearly always at home to my friends."
Her sister entered the room soon after, and private conversation came toan end.
Carstares lay awake long that night, he
aring the hours toll by and theowls screech in the square. The widow's words had sunk deep into hisever-uneasy conscience, and he could not sleep for the thought of John,"alone, unhappy, without friends." ... Time after time had he arguedthis question with himself: John or Lavinia? ... He fell to wonderingwhere his brother now was; whether he was still roaming the SouthCountry, a highwayman. No one would ever know how he, Richard, dreadedeach fresh capture made by the military. Every time he expected John tobe among the prisoners, and he visited Newgate so often that his friendstwitted him on it, vowing he had Selwyn's love of horrors.
