The Pulaskian., 1916-06-30
CHAPTER w.
Mrs. Farquhar Explains.

Mrs. Farquhar ran down the stairs to her sons library. It was a neglect ed room, which he only used on rare occasions. The old weapons hanging on the walls had belonged to his fa- ther, and the whole atmosphere seemed impregnated with the spirit of a dead, if powerful, personality.
 Mrs. Farquhar closed the door with 8 chuckle of triumphant malice.
 They're gone at last" she said. q assure you there isn't more surprised woman in England than dear Sylvia. She came expecting to find me with ashes on my head instead of wig, and I laughed in her face" Richard Farquhar turned from the window where he had been standing, and her eyes grew suddenly grave. My dear, you're not breaking your heart over her, are you?"
 No" He came slowly into the room. "I might have done so, but fate has given me something else to come to grief over. I've had quarrel with SOwer.'
 She said nothing, and he went on gently: He was dangerous. I have resigned my commission That was his price for my fathers name."
 Still Mrs. Farquhar did not speak. She sat down in the great leather chair by the fireplace, and the wild, childish horror in her eyes touched him to an amazed pity. Mother, I don't want to hurt you, but you must. have a right now to know"
 ''Yes, yes" She put her hands to her white-powdered cheeks. "Yes, yes, of course. There isn't much It was In this room, Richard. He came home one night and said he had killed man. Tit was awful!-he had no blood on him, Richard, but one felt he had blood all over; it was in his eyes, and He said it was all right-no one could touch him, but he had to go-for always. And then he cursed me-and then he fell on his knees hereby this chair-and buried his face in my lap-and cried. It was awful, Richard-a man like that-to cry" Her voice cracked, and became thin and broken like an old, worn-out Instrument. "Then he went away and one day man came to me and told me he was dead-but 1 never knew. I always believed I should know"
 He knelt beside her, and, taking her hands between his own, soothed them like a child's. There was something In the action curiously at variance with his expression, which was hard and reckless.
 But Sower-'' She turned her faded, frightened eyes to him. "I never understood that, Richard; never un- derstood why he shielded us. It fright ened me- Only once he spoke of it. He said he would never make use of the power-unless we made him. But 1t was his father who had been-mur- dered. It wasn't natural, Richard, it wasn't natural that he should forgive"
 "No," he agreed sternly; and then after moments silence: And my father-was there no reason-had he no explanation?
 With sudden vigorous movement she freed herself and stood up, her clenched, jeweled hands pressed against her breast, her eyes grown suddenly electric.
 T was the excuse" she said nercely. And was excuse enough"
 "YOuY' He also had risen, and as they stood there facing each other, the subtle resemblance of tempera- ment seemed to blaze through their features like some inward fire, chang ing all physical dissimilarity to con- vincing likeness.
 Yes. You don't understand, Rich- ard-you are too young. But 1t is women like myself who drive men to such things. We are educated to be professional vampires, and the more brains we have the more deadly we are.' She gave a short, ironical laugh. Don't you want to curse me?'
 Mo-" he answered simply. T don't curse you any more than believe my Gatb0r fIooa if ha ia alive If he is