"That I don't positively know. Partly, it is the natural result of a bad habit indulged, I suppose; but there are other influences at which I can guess. Still, it is pure guesswork. I am not in any one's confidence, except when Louis has been drinking too much, he says to me things that he would not want me to know if he were sober, and those, of course, I don't repeat. I think that his mother is bent on this union of the two houses, VanMarter's and theirs, and I think neither Louis nor Miss Alice are of her mind in the matter; and I think, moreover, that Louis would rather have an hour of Miss Benedict's society than a lifetime of Miss Eva VanMarter's, and I don't think he can get what he wants. Now, isn't that an interesting little romance for a young fellow like me to think out, especially when I don't know a thing about it? The only fact is that Louis Ansted is in great danger, and nobody seems to have much influence over him—at least, nobody who uses it in the right direction."
"His sister seems to be roused. I was surprised to hear her speak as she did."
"His sister is not the woman she was when you saw her last. She has been under Miss Benedict's influence all winter."
"Evidently you incline to the belief that Miss Benedict is a remarkable woman," his uncle said, with a slight laugh. "Why has she not been exerting her influence to help poor Louis?"
"She has tried as hard as a woman can. But, Uncle Harold, she is not the sort of woman to promise to marry a man merely to save him from becoming a drunkard."
"I should hope not," Mr. Chessney answered promptly.
CHAPTER XXVI.
AN ESCAPED VICTIM.
IN the quiet of Harry's own room, his uncle having spent fifteen minutes in silent and apparently puzzled thought, suddenly asked a question: