He placed the pistol on the table before him, looked at it critically,
and changed its position.

"A lady, my son, not a woman. You will find that the two are quite
different species. I fear she had but little choice. That is a pretty
lock on Mr. Lawton's weapon."

"You mean she is here now?" I persisted. He must surely have been in
jest.

"To be sure!" he acquiesced. "She is, I trust, asleep in the east guest
room, and heaven help you if you wake her. But why do you start, my son,
does it seem odd to you that I should act as squire?"

"Not in the least," I assured him. "I am only astonished that she should
consent to accompany you. You say, sir, that she is a lady?"

"At least," he replied, "I am broadening your education. That in itself,
Henry, quite repays me for any trouble I may have taken--but I fear you
are putting a bad construction on it. I beg of you, do not judge me so
harshly. Launcelot himself--what am I saying?--Bayard himself, up to the
present moment, could only commend my every action."

"Even to bringing her to this house," I suggested coldly.

"Precisely," he replied. "That in itself was actuated by the highest
piece of altruism heaven has vouchsafed humanity--the regard a father has
for his son."