At Love's Cost

Howard nodded.

"Yes; he had staked all upon this last throw, and the sudden reverse

came at a moment when his nerves were strained to the utmost, when he

was excited with the honour and glory he had achieved. The blow was too

sudden, the revulsion of feeling from exultation to despair too swift,

too great. It is one of the most awful things of which I have ever

heard or read. Men are speaking about it with bated breath. There is

nothing but pity for him, nothing but regret at the stroke of

misfortune which cut him down in the moment of his triumph."

"And others?" repeated Stafford. "It has brought ruin upon others.

What, can I do? Is there anything I can do? I am so ignorant, I do not

even know whether I sit here absolutely penniless, or whether there is

anything left that I can give them."

"Mr. Falconer and Murray and the lawyer are in the library," said

Howard. "They have been going into affairs. They would have liked to

have had you with them; but I begged you off. I knew you would be of no

use to them."

Stafford looked his thanks.

"No, I could not have helped them," he said. "No one knew less of my

poor father's affairs than I, no one is less capable of dealing with

them than I. Mr. Falconer will know what to do. It is very good of him

to come to my assistance. I have scarcely seen him; I have not seen

anyone but you."

"And Maude?" said Howard, interrogatively.

"No," said Stafford, his brows drawn together. "I have not seen her.

She has been ill--"

"Yes," said Howard, in a low voice. "She is prostrated by the shock,

poor girl! You will go to her as soon as she is able to leave her

room?"

"Yes, of course," said Stafford, very gravely and wearily.

There was a knock at the door, and the footman, in his mourning livery,

came in and said, solemnly: "Mr. Falconer would like to know if you will see him, my lord?"

A frown crossed Stafford's pale face at the "my lord." It sounded

strange and mockingly in his ears.

"I will come at once," he said. "Come with me, Howard."

They went to the library, and the three men who were sitting there

before a mass of papers rose to receive him; Falconer with a face as if

it were carved out of wood; Murray with anxious brow; the lawyer with a

grave and solemn countenance, and sharp, alert eyes. Stafford waved

them to their seats and took a chair at the table, and Falconer, with a

straight underlip, and eyes half concealed by their thick lids, spoke

for the others.