At Love's Cost

"You are right. Some men are made, born to wear the purple. My boy is

one of them--and he shall! He shall take his place amongst the noblest

and the best in the land. He shall marry with the highest. Nature has

cast him in a noble mould, and he shall step into his proper place."

He drew a long breath, and his brilliant eyes flashed as if he were

looking into the future, looking into the hour of triumph.

"Yes; I agree with you," said Howard; "but I am afraid Stafford will

scarcely share your ambition."

He was sorry he had spoken as he saw the change which his words had

caused in Sir Stephen.

"What?" he said, almost fiercely. "Why do you say that? Why should he

not be ambitious?" He stopped and laid his hand on Howard's shoulder,

gripping it tightly, and his voice sank to a stern whisper. "You don't

know of anything--there is no woman--no entanglement?"

"No, no!" said Howard. "Make your mind easy on that point. There is no

one. Stafford is singularly free in that respect. In fact--well, he is

rather cold. There is no one, I am sure. I should have known it, if

there had been."

Sir Stephen's grip relaxed, and the stern, almost savage expression was

smoothed out by a smile.

"Right," he said, still in a whisper. "Then there is no obstacle in my

way. I shall win what I am fighting for. Though it will not be an easy

fight. No, sir. But easy or difficult, I mean winning."

He rose and stood erect--a striking figure looking over Howard's head

with an abstracted gaze; then suddenly his eyelids quivered, his face

grew deathly pale, and his hand went to his heart.

Howard sprang to his feet with an exclamation of alarm; but Sir Stephen

held up his hand warningly, moved slowly to one of the tables, poured

out a glass of _liqueur_ and drank it. Then he turned to Howard, who

stood watching him, uncertain what to do or say, and said, with an air

of command: "Not a word. It is nothing."

Then he linked his arm in Howard's and led him into the billiard-room.

"Table all right, Stafford?"

"First-rate, sir," replied Stafford. "You and Mr. Howard play a

hundred."

"No, no," said Sir Stephen. "You and Howard. I should enjoy looking

on."

"We'll have a pool," said Stafford, taking the balls from the cabinet.

Howard watched Sir Stephen as he played his first shot: his hand was

perfectly steady, and he soon showed that he was a first-rate player.