"He is like the picture of this Sir Gaston.

Strange." He sighed, and unconsciously touched the scar on his brow.

His dealings with the Belwards had not been all joy.

Begun with youthful pride and affectionate interest, they had gone on into vexation, sorrow, failure, and shame.

While Gaston was riding into his kingdom, Lionel Henry Varcoe was thinking how poor his life had been where he had meant it to be useful.