Here in his native village there were none to
gibe and sneer. The contrast of the traveling show
would be as great for him as it had been for Margaret,
but he was the male of the species, and she the
female. Chivalry, racial, harking back to the begin-
ning of nobility in the human, to its earliest dawn,
fired Sydney. The pale daylight invaded the study.
Sydney, as truly as any knight of old, had girded
himself, and with no hope, no thought of reward,
for the battle in the eternal service of the strong
for the weak, which makes the true worth of the
strong.
There was only one way. Sydney Lord took it.
His sister was spared the knowledge of the truth
for a long while. When she knew, she did not lament;
since Sydney had taken the course, it must be right.
As for Margaret, not knowing the truth, she yielded.
She was really on the verge of illness. Her spirit
was of too fine a strain to enable her body to endure
long. When she was told that she was to remain
with Sydney's sister while Sydney went away on
business, she made no objection. A wonderful sense
of relief, as of wings of healing being spread under
her despair, was upon her. Camille came to bid
her good-by.
"I hope you have a nice visit in this lovely house,"
said Camille, and kissed her. Camille was astute,
and to be trusted.
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