"What shall you name him, Alice?"

"There can be but one name for him. G.o.d sent us two little girls, but took them back again. We both wished for a son, and Heaven has sent one, but has taken the father from us."

"And you will name him--"

"Quincy Adams Sawyer, Junior," was the answer. "It is his birthright."

"But," said Aunt Ella, "they never add Junior to a boy's name unless his father is living."

Alice sat up in bed, and her eyes flashed as she said,

"My heart has renewed its hope with this young life. I believe my husband still lives, and, until I have conclusive proofs of his death, our son's name will be Quincy Adams Sawyer, Junior."

CHAPTER XIII

"HORNABY HOOK"

Time, it is said, will dull the deepest sorrow. There are some who put out of sight everything to remind them of the lost one, while others treasure every memento, and never tire of recalling the virtues of the departed.

In Alice's case the presence of her little boy was a constant reminder of her husband. In Aunt Ella she found a willing listener, and talking of her past happy married life aided greatly in restoring her nerve power and improving her general health.

She said one day, "Aunt Ella, don't you think it better to face your troubles bravely than to fly away from them?"

"I certainly do. You are following the right course, Alice; the same as I did when Robert died. Your parting with Quincy was sad, inexpressibly so, but imagine my feelings to awake and find my husband dead in the bed beside me. Did I try to forget him? You remember his rooms in the Mount Vernon Street house. They became my Mecca--the place to which I went when I had a 'blue fit,' or was depressed in any way. G.o.d has sent you a child to keep your husband's memory fresh. I repeat, Alice, you are doing the right thing."

"I do it," said Alice, "for two reasons. One is that it makes me happy.

The other is, that believing that my husband still lives, I wish to bring up his son so that he will be proud of him."

Florence, after awhile, made a confidante of Aunt Ella and told her about Captain Hornaby. She confessed her interest in him and said that notwithstanding his crime she loved him, but that her father would never forgive him.

"What part of England did he come from?" asked Aunt Ella.

"He said from Hornaby--that the place was named after his family. Their home was called Hornaby Hook, because, as he said, it was built upon a promontory in the form of a hook."

"What is his father's name?"

"Sir Wilfred, and Reginald is the fourth son."

"No chance of his ever getting the t.i.tle," remarked Aunt Ella.

"I wonder where Hornaby Hook is," said Florence.

"That's easily found out. Linda has _Burke's Peerage_ and I'll write to her to-day."

Lady Fernborough more than kept her promise, for in her letter she told the Countess Florence's unhappy love story besides asking for information about the Hornaby family.

Linda's reply was a revelation.

"MY DEAR AUNT ELLA,

"I was very sorry to hear that Quincy's sister has been so unfortunate in her love affair, and astonished to find that Captain Hornaby is the cause of it. You will be surprised to learn that Algernon is well acquainted with Sir Wilfred who is an old-fashioned English gentleman and the soul of honour. He has met the Captain and thought him a fine young fellow. Hornaby Hook is on the Suss.e.x coast about ten miles from us. Come and see us and bring Florence with you. Perhaps there is an explanation of the affair which the Captain can give. He should not be condemned without a hearing. Give my love to Alice and tell her I'm coming to see that baby very soon. With love, ever yours, LINDA."

Aunt Ella was now in her element. There was a mystery to be explained and she held the key. She told Florence where Hornaby Hook was, and that the Hornaby family was a fine one, and that Sir Wilfred was held in the highest respect by everybody, but did not mention Linda's suggestion of a visit, and a possible explanation. She knew Florence would not accompany her if there was any possibility of her meeting the Captain.

It would appear as though she was running after him, and no American girl, especially a Sawyer, would do that.

Sir Stuart was greatly interested in young Quincy, and Mrs. Villiers, the housekeeper, thought him the handsomest and best baby she had ever seen. Thus the way was paved for the first step in Aunt Ella's plot.

"Alice, do you think you would be very lonesome if I went away for a week?"

"Why no, Aunt Ella. Why should I be? I have the baby, and Sir Stuart and Mrs. Villiers are both goodness itself to me."

"Florence is not looking very well. Don't you think a week at the seash.o.r.e would do her good?"

"I wish she could go, poor girl. When I think of her, I say to myself that I have no right to be unhappy. If Quincy is dead, he died n.o.bly, to save others. But the shame connected with Captain Hornaby is what Florence feels so deeply."

That same day Aunt Ella wrote to Linda that she was coming with Florence, and that Algernon and she must arrange in some way to bring about that "explanation."

Algernon, Earl of Suss.e.x, and the Countess Linda lived at Ellersleigh in the County of Suss.e.x, not many miles from historic Hastings. To Aunt Ella and Florence they extended a warm and heartfelt welcome, and Florence, used as she was to the luxuries of life, could not but marvel at the beauty and even splendour that surrounded the Countess--once an American country girl named Linda Putnam.

"I have sent out cards for a dinner party next Thursday," said Linda to Aunt Ella. "There will be an opportunity for that 'explanation,' but you must a.s.sume the responsibility if there should be a tragic ending."

"We must hope for the best," replied Aunt Ella. "I will gather up the fragments after the explosion."

From the expression on Florence's face, when Sir Wilfred Hornaby and Captain Reginald Hornaby were announced as guests, the explosion seemed imminent.

In her mind, she had looked forward to such a meeting with a sensation of delight. Now that it had come her pride was up in arms. She had been tricked into coming. The Countess and Aunt Ella had arranged this meeting. Perhaps he had been told that she would be present. Well, if they did meet, he would have to do the talking. She had no explanation to make. If he had one, he must introduce the subject.

At the dinner Florence sat next to Sir Wilfred, but the Captain was far removed on the other side of the long table. Sir Wilfred was politely attentive. Did he know of his son's crime? Evidently not--but, if he did, he had condoned the offence. But how could he if he was the man of honour that the Countess had pictured him in her letter to Aunt Ella?

No, the son had deceived _his_ father as he had _her_ father. Did she really love him? Had she forgiven him? If he had proposed when Florence was in that state of uncertainty, his rejection would have been swift and positive.

When the dinner was over, the Captain, apparently unconscious of guilt, approached Florence. He offered his arm.

"Will you come with me, Miss Sawyer? I have a very important question to ask you."

Should she go? He was going to ask her a question. She had many to ask him. This unpleasant uncertainty must end--now, was the accepted time.

She took his arm, and he made his way to the conservatory--that haven of confidences, where so many lovers have been made happy, or unhappy.

"Why have you not answered my letters?" he said.

"I never received them." Her voice was cold, and she removed her hand from his arm.

"I sent them in your father's care."