In reality, the major went because he could no longer endure the sight of “that idiot,” as he called Vavasor, assured that in London he had only to inquire to find out enough to discredit the fellow. He told them to tell Mark he was gone to fetch tiger skins and a little statue with diamond eyes and would tell him all about them as soon as he was well again.

He told Mr. Raymount that he had no end of business to look after, but now that he knew the way to Yrndale he might be back any day. He told Mrs. Raymount about some pearls he had for her—he knew she was fond of pearls—and was going away to fetch them. He made Hester promise to write to him at the Army and Navy Club every day till Mark was well. And so he departed, much blessed by all the family for saving the life of their precious boy.

When he reached London the major hunted up some of his old friends, and through them sent out inquiry after inquiry concerning Vavasor. He learned some things about him—nothing very bad, and nothing especially to his credit. That he was heir to an earldom he liked least of all, for he was only the more likely to marry his beautiful cousin, and he thought her a great deal too good for him.

Vavasor was relieved when he was gone, but as the days passed and he expected the enthusiasm for the major’s heroics to have died down, he was annoyed to find that Hester was just as impressed with the objectionable character of the man. That Hester should not be shocked with him was almost more than he could bear. He could not understand that just as to the pure all things are pure, so the common mind sees far more vulgarity in others than the mind developed to genuine refinement. It understands, therefore forgives. Hester was able to look deeper than he, and she saw much that was good and honourable in the man, however he might have the bridle of his tongue too loose for safe riding in the crowded paths of society.

A day or two before the end of Vavasor’s visit, as he was sitting together in the old-fashioned garden with Mrs. Raymount and Hester, the mail was brought to them—one letter for Vavasor with a great black seal. He read it through, then said quietly:

“I am sorry I must leave you tomorrow. Or is there a train tonight? But I daresay it does not matter, only I ought to be present at the funeral of my uncle, Lord Gartley. He died yesterday, from what I can make out. It is a tiresome thing to succeed to a title with hardly property enough to pay the servants.”