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C++ Programming: From Problem Analysis to Program Design, Eighth Edition 9-1

Chapter 9
Records (structs)
A Guide to this Instructor’s Manual:

We have designed this Instructor’s Manual to supplement and enhance your teaching
experience through classroom activities and a cohesive chapter summary.

This document is organized chronologically, using the same headings that you see in the
textbook. Under the headings, you will find lecture notes that summarize the section, Teacher
Tips, Classroom Activities, and Lab Activities. Pay special attention to teaching tips and
activities geared towards quizzing your students and enhancing their critical thinking skills.

In addition to this Instructor’s Manual, our Instructor’s Resources also contain PowerPoint
Presentations, Test Banks, and other supplements to aid in your teaching experience.

At a Glance

Instructor’s Manual Table of Contents

• Overview

• Objectives

• Teaching Tips

• Quick Quizzes

• Class Discussion Topics

• Additional Projects

• Additional Resources

• Key Terms

© 2018 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be copied, scanned, or duplicated, in whole or in part, except for use as permitted in a
license distributed with a certain product or service or otherwise on a password-protected website for classroom use.
C++ Programming: From Problem Analysis to Program Design, Eighth Edition 9-2

Lecture Notes

Overview
In Chapter 9, students will be introduced to a data type that can be heterogeneous. They
will learn how to group together related values that are of differing types using records,
which are also known as structs in C++. First, they will explore how to create
structs, perform operations on structs, and manipulate data using a struct.
Next, they will examine the relationship between structs and functions and learn
how to use structs as arguments to functions. Finally, students will explore ways to
create and use an array of structs in an application.

Objectives
In this chapter, the student will:
• Learn about records (structs)
• Examine various operations on a struct
• Explore ways to manipulate data using a struct
• Learn about the relationship between a struct and functions
• Examine the difference between arrays and structs
• Discover how arrays are used in a struct
• Learn how to create an array of struct items
• Learn how to create structs within a struct

Teaching Tips
Records (structs)

1. Define the C++ struct data type and describe why it is useful in programming.

Discuss how previous programming examples and projects that used parallel
Teaching
arrays or vectors might be simplified by using a struct to hold related
Tip
information.

2. Examine the syntax of a C++ struct.

3. Using the examples in this section, explain how to define a struct type and then
declare variables of that type.

© 2018 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be copied, scanned, or duplicated, in whole or in part, except for use as permitted in a
license distributed with a certain product or service or otherwise on a password-protected website for classroom use.
C++ Programming: From Problem Analysis to Program Design, Eighth Edition 9-3

Accessing struct Members

1. Explain how to access the members of a struct using the C++ member access
operator.
2. Use the code snippets in this section to illustrate how to assign values to struct
members.

Mention that the struct and class data types both use the member access
operator. Spend a few minutes discussing the history of the struct data type
and how it relates to C++ classes and object-oriented programming. Note that the
struct is a precursor to the class data type. Explain that the struct was
introduced in C to provide the ability to group heterogeneous data members
together and, for the purposes of this chapter, is used in that manner as well.
Teaching However, in C++, a struct has the same ability as a class to group data and
Tip
operations into one data type. In fact, a struct in C++ is interchangeable with
a class, with a couple of exceptions. By default, access to a struct from
outside the struct is public, whereas access to a class from outside the
class is private by default. The importance of this will be discussed later in the
text. Memory management is also handled differently for structs and
classes.

Quick Quiz 1
1. True or False: A struct is typically a homogenous data structure.
Answer: False

2. The components of a struct are called the ____________________ of the struct.

Answer: members

3. A struct statement ends with a(n) ____________________.

Answer: semicolon

4. True or False: A struct is typically defined before the definitions of all the functions
in a program.
Answer: True

Assignment

1. Explain that the values of one struct variable are copied into another struct
variable of the same type using one assignment statement. Note that this is equivalent to
assigning each member variable individually.

© 2018 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be copied, scanned, or duplicated, in whole or in part, except for use as permitted in a
license distributed with a certain product or service or otherwise on a password-protected website for classroom use.
C++ Programming: From Problem Analysis to Program Design, Eighth Edition 9-4

Note how memory is handled in assignment operations involving struct

Teaching
variables of the same type; namely, that the values of the members of one
Tip
struct are copied into the member variables of the other struct.

Comparison (Relational Operators)

1. Emphasize that no relational aggregate operations are allowed on structs. Instead,

comparisons must be made member-wise, similar to an array.

Ask your students why they think assignment operations are permitted on
Teaching
struct types, but not relational operations. Discuss the issue of determining
Tip
how to compare a data type that consists of other varying data types.

Input/Output

1. Note that unlike an array, aggregate input and output operations are not allowed on
structs.

Mention that the stream and the relational operators can be overloaded to provide
Teaching
the proper functionality for a struct type and, in fact, that this is a standard
Tip
technique used by C++ programmers.

struct Variables and Functions

1. Emphasize that a C++ struct may be passed as a parameter by value or by reference,

and it can also be returned from a function.

2. Illustrate parameter passing with structs using the code snippets in this section.

Arrays versus structs

1. Using Table 9-1, discuss the similarities and differences between structs and arrays.

Spend a few minutes comparing the aggregate operations that are allowed on
Teaching structs and arrays. What might account for the differences? Use your previous
Tip exposition on the history of structs and memory management to facilitate this
discussion.

© 2018 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be copied, scanned, or duplicated, in whole or in part, except for use as permitted in a
license distributed with a certain product or service or otherwise on a password-protected website for classroom use.
C++ Programming: From Problem Analysis to Program Design, Eighth Edition 9-5

Arrays in structs

1. Explain how to include an array as a member of a struct.

2. Using Figure 9-5, discuss situations in which creating a struct type with an array as a
member might be useful. In particular, discuss its usefulness in applications such as the
sequential search algorithm.

Ask your students to think of other applications in which using an array as a

member of a struct might be useful. For example, are there applications in
Teaching
which parameter passing might be reduced by using struct members in
Tip
conjunction with arrays? Also, are there other data members that would be useful
to include in the listType struct presented in this section?

3. Discuss situations in which a struct should be passed by reference rather than by

value. Use the sequential search function presented in this section as an example.

structs in Arrays

1. Discuss how structs can be used as array elements to organize and process data
efficiently.

2. Examine the employee record in this section as an example of using an array of

structs. Discuss the code for the struct as well as the array processing code. Use
Figure 9-7 to clarify the code.

Emphasize that using a structured data type, such as a struct or class, as the
Teaching element type of an array is a common technique. Using the vector class as an
Tip example, reiterate that object-oriented languages typically have containers such
as list or array types that in turn store objects of any type.

structs within a struct

1. Discuss how structs can be nested within other structs as a means of organizing
related data.

2. Using the employee record in Figure 9-8, illustrate how to reorganize a large amount of
related information with nested structs.

3. Encourage your students to step through the “Sales Data Analysis” Programming
Example at the end of the chapter to consolidate the concepts discussed in this chapter.

© 2018 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be copied, scanned, or duplicated, in whole or in part, except for use as permitted in a
license distributed with a certain product or service or otherwise on a password-protected website for classroom use.
C++ Programming: From Problem Analysis to Program Design, Eighth Edition 9-6

Quick Quiz 2
1. What types of aggregate operations are allowed on structs?
Answer: assignment

2. Can struct variables be passed as parameters to functions? If so, how?

Answer: struct variables can be passed as parameters either by value or by reference.

3. True or False: A variable of type struct may not contain another struct.
Answer: False

4. True or False: A variable of type struct may contain an array.

Answer: True

Class Discussion Topics

1. With the advent of object-oriented programming, is it ever necessary to use C-type
structs rather than classes? If so, when? What are the advantages or disadvantages of
each approach?

2. Discuss how the object-oriented concept of reusability relates to structs, structs

within arrays, arrays within structs, and structs within structs. Ask students to
think of some applications in which defining these data types for later use would be
beneficial.

Additional Projects
1. Write a program that reads students’ names followed by their test scores. The program
should output each student’s name followed by the test scores and the relevant grade. It
should also find and print the lowest, highest, and average test score. Output the name
of the students having the highest test score.

Student data should be stored in a struct variable of type studentType, which has
four components: studentFName and studentLName of type string, testScore
of type int (testScore is between 0 and 100), and grade of type char. Suppose
that the class has 20 students. Use an array of 20 components of type studentType.

2. Write a program that lists all the capitals for countries in a specific region of the world.
Use an array of structs to store this information. The struct should include the
capital, the country, the continent, and the population. You might include additional
information as well, such as the languages spoken in each capital. Output the countries
with the smallest and largest populations.

© 2018 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be copied, scanned, or duplicated, in whole or in part, except for use as permitted in a
license distributed with a certain product or service or otherwise on a password-protected website for classroom use.
C++ Programming: From Problem Analysis to Program Design, Eighth Edition 9-7

Additional Resources
1. Data Structures:
http://www.cplusplus.com/doc/tutorial/structures/

2. struct (C++):
https://msdn.microsoft.com/en-us/library/64973255.aspx

3. Classes, Structures, and Unions:

https://msdn.microsoft.com/en-us/library/4a1hcx0y.aspx

Key Terms
 Member access operator: the dot (.) placed between the struct and the name of one
of its members; used to access members of a struct
 struct: a collection of heterogeneous components in which the components are
accessed by the variable name of the struct, the member access operator, and the
variable name of the component

© 2018 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be copied, scanned, or duplicated, in whole or in part, except for use as permitted in a
license distributed with a certain product or service or otherwise on a password-protected website for classroom use.
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expressions, can be grave one moment and brimming over with fun
the next; because there lurks, even when they are most quiescent, a
world of possibilities in the way of wit in the corners of the red lips;
because the face, as you watch it, can in the course of a few
minutes flash with spirit, melt with tenderness, and all the while
remain the face of a pure, innocent, healthy, light-hearted girl.
The young men who crossed Leslie Lisle's path underwent a sad
experience.
At first they were attracted by her beauty; in a few hours or days, as
the case might be, they began to find the attraction lying somewhat
deeper than the face; then they grew restless, unhappy, lost their
appetites, got to lying awake of nights, and lastly went to pieces
completely, and if they possessed sufficient courage, flung
themselves perfectly wretched and overcome at the small feet of the
slim, girlish figure which had become to them even that of the one
woman in the world. And to do Leslie justice, she was not only
always surprised, but distressed. She had said nothing, and what is
more, looked nothing, to encourage them. She had been just herself,
a frank yet modest English girl, with an Irish face, and that
indescribable sweetness which draws men's hearts from their
bosoms before they know what has happened to them.
She was seated at the piano in the sitting-room of the cottage which
the fisherman who owned it had christened Sea View, and she was
amusing herself and a particularly silent and morose parrot by
singing some of the old songs and ballads which she had found in a
rickety music-stand in the corner; and for all the parrot glanced at
her disapprovingly with his glassy eye, she had a sufficiently sweet
voice, and sang with more than the usual amount of feeling.
While she was in the middle of that famous but slightly monotonous
composition, "Robin Grey," the door opened, and a tall, thin man
entered.
This was Francis Lisle, her father. He was a man this side of fifty, but
looked older in consequence, perhaps, of his hair, which was gray
and scanty, a faded face, with a dreamy far away look in the faint
blue eyes, and a somewhat bent form and dragging gait. He carried
a portable easel in one hand, and held a canvas under his arm.
As he entered he looked round the room as if he had never seen it
before, then set the easel up in a corner, placed the canvas on it
upside down, and crossing his hands behind his back, stood with
bent head gazing at it for some moments in silence. Then he said, in
a voice which matched the dreamy face:
"Leslie, come here."
Leslie stopped short in the middle of the most heart-rending line of
the cheerful ballad, and walked—no; glided? scarcely; it is difficult to
describe how the girl got across the small room, so full of grace, so
characteristic was her mode of progression, and putting both hands
on his shoulders, leaned her cheek against his head.
"Back already, dear?" she said, and the tone fully indicated the
position in which she stood toward her parent. "I thought you were
going to make a long day of it."
"Yes, yes," he said, without taking his eyes from the sketch. "I did
intend doing so. I started full of my subject and—er—inspired with
hope, and I don't think I have altogether failed. It is difficult—very.
The tone of that sky would fill a careless amateur with despair, but—
but I am not careless. Whatever I may be I am not that. The secrets
of art which she hides from the unthinking and—er—irreverent she
confides to her true worshipers. Now, Leslie, look at that sky. Look
at it carefully, critically, and tell me—do you not think I have caught
that half tone, that delicious mingling of the chrome and the
ultramarine? There is a wealth of form and color in that right hand
corner, and I—yes, I think it is the best, by far the best and truest
thing I have as yet done."
Leslie leaned forward, and softly, swiftly, placed the picture right side
up.
It had not very much improved by the transposition. It was—well, to
put it bluntly, a daub of the most awful description. Never since the
world began had there ever, in nature, been anything like it. The
average schoolboy libeling nature with a shilling box of colors could
not have sinned more deeply. The sea was a brilliant
washerwoman's blue, the hills were heaps of muddy ochre, the
fishing vessels looked like blackbeetles struggling on their backs,
there was a cow in the meadow in the foreground which would have
wrung tears from any one who had ever set eyes on that harmless
but necessary animal, and the bit of sky in the corner was utterly
and completely indescribable.
Leslie looked at it with a sad little expression in her eyes, the pitying
look one sees in the face of a woman whose life is spent in
humoring the weakness of a beloved one; then she said, gently:
"It is very striking, papa."
"Striking!" repeated Francis Lisle. "Striking! I like that word. You,
too, are an artist, my dear Leslie, though you never touch a brush.
How well you know how to use the exact expression. I flatter myself
that it is striking. I think I may say, without egotism, that no one, no
real critic could look at that sketch—for it is a mere sketch—without
being struck!"
"Yes, papa," she murmured, soothingly.
He shaded his eyes with his thin white hands in the orthodox
fashion, and peered at the monstrosity.
"There is, if I may say so, an—er—originality in the treatment which
would alone make the sketch interesting and valuable. Tell me, now,
Leslie, what it is in it that catches your fancy most."
Leslie looked at it carefully.
"I—I think that heap of sea-weed nicely painted, papa," she said,
putting her arm round his neck.
"Heap of sea-weed?" his brows knitted. "Heap of sea-weed? I don't
see anything of the kind."
"There, papa," she said, pointing.
"My dear Leslie, I have always suspected that your sight was not
perfect, that there was some defect in its range power; that is not a
heap of sea-weed, but a fisherwoman mending her nets!"
"Of course! How stupid of me!" she said, quickly. "I'm afraid I am
near-sighted, dear. But don't you think you have done enough for to-
day? Why not put it away until to-morrow?"
"There is no to-morrow, Leslie," he said, gravely, as he got out his
palette. "'Art is long and life is fleeting.' Never forget that, my dear.
No, I can stipple on a little. I intend finishing this sketch, and making
a miniature—a cabinet picture. It shall be worthy of a place among
those exquisite studies of Foster's. And yet——," he sighed and
pushed the hair from his forehead, "and yet I'll be bound that if I
tried to sell it, I should not find a dealer to give me a few paltry
pounds for it. So blind and prejudiced! No, they would not buy it,
and possibly the Academy would refuse to exhibit it. Prejudice,
prejudice! But art has its own rewards, thank Heaven! I paint
because I must. Fame has no attraction. I am content to wait. Yes,
though the recognition which is my due may come too late! It is
often thus!"
The girl bent her beautiful head—she stood taller than the drooping
figure of her father—and kissed, ah! how tenderly, pityingly, the gray
hair.
Francis Lisle, Esquire, the younger son of an old Irish family, had
been a dreamer from his youth up. He had started with a good
education and a handsome little fortune; he had dreamed away the
education, dreamed away the small fortune, dreamed away nearly
all his life, and his great dream was that he was an artist. He
couldn't draw a haystack, and certainly could not have colored it
correctly even if by chance he had drawn it; but he was persuaded
that he was a great artist, and he fancied that his hand transferred
to the canvas the scenes which he attempted to paint.
And he was not unhappy. His wife had died when Leslie was a mite
of a thing, and how he had managed to get on until Leslie was old
enough to take care of him can never even be surmised; but she
began to play the mother, the guardian, and protector to this
visionary father of hers, at an extremely early age. She managed
everything, almost fed and clothed him, and kept from him all those
petty ills and worries which make life such a burden for most people.
They had no settled home, but wandered about, sometimes on the
Continent, but mostly in England, and Francis Lisle had hundreds of
sketches which were like nothing under heaven, but were supposed
to be "ideas" for larger pictures, of places they had visited.
They had been at Portmaris a couple of months when we find them,
and though Francis Lisle was just beginning to get tired of it, and
restlessly anxious to be on the move again, Leslie was loth to leave.
She had grown fond of the golden sands, the strip of pebbly beach,
the narrow street broken by its wind-twisted trees, the green lanes
leading to the country beyond, and still more fond of the simple-
hearted fisher folk, who always welcomed her with a smile, and had
already learned to call her Miss Leslie.
Indeed, Miss Lisle was a dangerous young woman, and the hearts of
young and old, gentle and simple, went down before a glance of her
gray-blue eyes, a smile from the mobile lips, a word from her voice
which thrilled with a melody few could resist.
Francis Lisle went on daubing, his head on one side, a rapt,
contented look on his pale, aristocratic face.
"Yes, this is going to be one of my best efforts," he said, with placid
complacency. "Go and sing something, Leslie. I can always work
better while you are singing. Music and painting are twin sisters. I
adore them both."
Leslie went back to the piano with that peculiarly graceful motion of
hers, and touched a note or two.
"Were there no letters this morning, dear?" she asked.
"Letters?" Lisle put his hand to his forehead as if rudely called back
to earth from the empyrean. "Letters? No. Yes, I forgot. There was
one. It was from Ralph Duncombe."
Leslie turned her head slightly, and the rather thick brows which
helped the eyes in all their unconscious mischief straightened.
"From Ralph? What does he say?"
"I don't know," replied Lisle, placidly. "I can never read his letters;
he writes so terribly plain a hand; its hardness jars upon me. I have
it—somewhere?"
He searched his pockets reluctantly.
"No, I must have lost it. Does it matter very much?"
Leslie laughed softly.
"I don't know; but one generally likes to know what is in a letter."
"Well, then, I wish I could find it. I told the postman when he gave it
to me that I should probably lose it, and that he had better bring it
on to the house; but—well, I don't think he understood me. I often
think that we speak an unknown language to these country people."
"Perhaps he did not hear you," said Leslie. "Sometimes, you know,
dear, you think you have spoken when you have not uttered a word,
but only thought."
"I dare say," he assented, dreamily. "Now I come to think of it, I
fancy Duncombe said he was coming down here——."
The slender white hands which had been touching the keys
caressingly stopped.
"Coming here, papa!"
"Yes. I think so. I'm not sure. Now, what could I have done with that
letter?"
He made another search, failed to find it, shook his head as if
dismissing the subject, and resumed his "work."
Leslie struck a chord, and opened her lips to sing, when the sound
of the wheels belonging to the one fly in the place came down the
uneven street. She paused to listen, then leaned sideways and
looked through the window.
"The station fly!" she said. "And it has stopped at Marine Villa, papa.
It must be another visitor. Fancy two visitors at the same time in
Portmaris! It will go wild with excitement."
The cranky vehicle had pulled up at the opposite cottage, and Leslie,
with mild, very mild, curiosity, got up from the piano and went to the
window.
As she did so a man dressed in soft tweed got down from beside the
driver, opened the fly-door, and gave his arm to a young man whose
appearance filled Leslie's heart with pity; for he was a cripple. His
back was bent, his face pale and gentle as a woman's, marked with
lines which were eloquent of weary days, and still more weary
nights; and in the dark eyes was that peculiar expression of sadness
which a life of pain and suffering patiently borne sets as a seal.
The young fellow leaned on his stick and the man's arm, and looked
round him, and his eye, dark and full of a soft penetration, fell upon
the lovely face at the opposite window.
Leslie drew back, when it was too late, and breathed an exclamation
of regret.
"Oh, papa!"
"What is the matter?" asked Lisle, vacantly.
"I am sorry!" she said. "He will think I was staring at him—and so I
was. And that will seem so cruel to him, poor fellow."
"What is cruel? which poor fellow?" demanded Lisle with feeble
impatience.
"Some one who has just got out of the fly, dear; a cripple, poor
fellow; and he saw me watching him." And she sighed again.
"Eh?" said Lisle, as if he were trying to recollect something. "Ah, yes,
I remember. Mrs. Whiting told me that he was expected some time
to-day; they had a telegram saying he was coming."
"He? Who?" said Leslie, going back to the piano.
"Who?" repeated Lisle, as if he were heartily sorry he had continued
the subject. "Why, this young man. Dear me, I forget his name and
title——."
"Title? Poor fellow! Is he a nobleman, papa? That makes it seem so
much worse, doesn't it?"
Lisle looked round at her helplessly.
"Upon my word, my dear," he said, "I do not wish to appear dense,
but I haven't the least idea of what you are talking about, and——,"
he went on more quietly, as if he feared she were going to explain,
"it doesn't matter. Pray sing something, and—and do not let us
worry about things which do not concern us."
Leslie began to sing without another word.
 CHAPTER II.
FATE.
The crippled young man, with the assistance of his companion,
made his way into the sitting-room of Marine Villa; an invalid's chair
was hauled from the top of the fly and carried in, and the young
man sank into it with a faint sigh.
"Leave me, Grey," he said. "When Lord Auchester arrives let him
come to me at once; and, Grey, be good enough to remember what
I told you——."
"Yes, your grace," said the man; then, as his master lifted the soft
brown eyes with gentle reproach, he added, correcting himself, "yes,
sir."
The young man smiled faintly.
"That is better. Thanks."
The valet unlocked a morocco traveling case, and took out a vial and
medicine chest.
"The medicine, your gra——, sir, I mean."
"Ah, yes, I forgot. Thank you," said the young man, and he took the
draught with a weary patience. "Thanks. Let me know when his
lordship arrives. No, I want nothing more."
The valet went out, shutting the door softly after him, and his
master leaned his head upon his hand, and closed his eyes.
Fate had dealt very strangely with this young man. With one hand it
had showered upon him most of the gifts which the sons of men set
high store by; it had made him a duke, had given him palaces, vast
lands, money in such abundance as to be almost a burden; and with
the other hand, as if in scorn and derision of the thing called Man,
Fate had struck him one of those blows under which humanity is
crushed and broken.
A nurse had let him, when a child, slip from her arms, and the great
Duke of Rothbury was doomed to go through life a stunted and
crooked-back object, with the grim figure of pain always marching
by his side, with the bitter knowledge that not all his wealth could
prevent the people he met in the streets regarding him with curious
and pitying glances, with the bitter sense that the poorest of the
laborers on his estates enjoyed a better lot than his, and was more
to be envied than himself.
He sat perfectly motionless for some minutes; then he opened his
eyes and started slightly; Leslie had just begun to sing.
He wheeled his chair to the window, and set it open quietly, and,
keeping behind the curtains, listened with evident pleasure.
The song was still floating across to him when a young man came
marching up the street.
Youth is a glorious thing under any circumstances, but when it is
combined with perfect health, good temper, a handsome face, and a
stalwart form it is god-like in its force and influence.
The little narrow street of Portmaris seemed somehow to grow
brighter and wider as the young man strode up it; his well-knit form
swaying a little to right and left, his well-shaped head perfectly
poised, his bright eyes glancing here and there with intelligent
interest, the pleasure-loving lips whistling softly from sheer light-
heartedness. He stopped as he came opposite Sea View, and
listened to Leslie's song, nodding his head approvingly; then he
caught sight of the "Marine Villa" on the opposite house, and walked
straight into the little hall.
"Hallo, Grey," he said, and his voice rang, not hardly and
unpleasantly, but with that clear golden timbre which only belongs to
the voice of a man in perfect health. "Here you are, then! And how
is——."
Grey smiled as he bent his head respectfully; everybody was glad to
see the young man.
"Yes, my lord. Just got down. His gra——. We are pretty well
considering the journey, my lord. He will see your lordship at once."
"All right," said the young fellow. "I rode as far as Northcliffe, but
left the horse there, as I didn't know what sort of stables they'd
have here."
"You were right, my lord," said Grey, in the approving tone of a
confidential servant. "This seems a rare out-of-the-way place. And I
should doubt there being a decent stable here."
"Ah, well, the duke will like it all the better for being quiet," the
young fellow said.
Grey put his hand to his lips, and coughed apologetically.
"Beg pardon, my lord, but his gra——, that is—well, you'll excuse
me, my lord, but we're down here quite incog., as you may say."
As Lord Auchester, staring at the man, was about to laugh, the clear,
rather shrill voice of the invalid was heard from the room.
"Is that you, Yorke? Why do you not come in?"
The young fellow entered, and took the long thin hand the duke
extended to him.
"Hallo, Dolph!" he said, lowering his voice. "How are you? What
made you think of coming to this outlandish spot?"
The duke, still holding his cousin's hand, smiled up at him with a
mixture of sadness and self raillery.
"I can't tell you, Yorke; I got tired of town, and told Grey to hunt up
some place in Bradshaw that he had never heard of, some place
right out of the beaten track, and he chose this."
"Poor unfortunate man!" said Lord Auchester, with a laugh.
"Yes, Grey suffers a great deal from my moods and humors; and so
do other persons, yourself to wit, Yorke. It was very kind of you to
come to me so soon."
"Of course I came," said Lord Auchester. "I wasn't very far off, you
see."
"Fishing?" said the duke, with evident interest.
"Y-es; oh, yes," replied the other young man, quickly. "I rode over as
far as Northcliffe——."
The duke sighed as his eyes wandered musingly over the stalwart,
well-proportioned frame.
"You ought to have been in the army, Yorke," he said.
Lord Auchester laughed.
"So I should have been if they hadn't made the possession of brains
a sine qua non; it seems you want brains for pretty nearly
everything nowadays; and it's just brains I'm short of, you see,
Dolph."
"You have everything else," said the duke, in a low voice.
He sighed and turned his head away; not that he envied his cousin
his handsome face and straight limbs.
"You haven't told me what you wanted me for, Dolph," said Lord
Auchester, after a pause, during which both men had been listening
half unconsciously to the sweet voice in the cottage opposite.
"I wanted—nothing," said the duke.
"There is nothing I can do for you?"
"Nothing; unless," with a sigh and a wistful smile, "unless you can by
the wave of a magician's wand change this crooked body of mine for
something like your own."
"I would if I could, Dolph," said the other, bending over him, and
laying a pair of strong hands soothingly on the invalid's bent
shoulders.
"I know that, Yorke. But you cannot, can you? I dare say you think I
am a peevish, discontented wretch, and that I ought, as the poor
Emperor of Germany said, to bear my pain without complaining
——."
"No, Dolph; I think you complain very little, and face the music first
rate," put in the other.
"Thanks. I try to most times, and I could succeed better than I do if
I were always alone, but sometimes——," he sighed bitterly. "Why is
it that the world is so false, Yorke? Are there no honest men besides
you and Grey, and half a dozen others I could mention? And are
there no honest women at all?"
Yorke Auchester raised his eyebrows and laughed.
"What's wrong with the women?" he said.
The duke leaned his head upon his hand, and partially hid his face,
which had suddenly become red.
"Everything is wrong with them, Yorke," he said, gravely and in a
low voice. "You know, or perhaps you do not know, how I esteem,
reverence, respect a woman; perhaps because I dare not love
them."
Yorke Auchester nodded.
"If all the men felt as you do about women there would be no bad
ones in the world, Dolph," he said.
"To me there is something sacred in the very word. My heart
expands, grows warm in the presence of a good woman. I cannot
look at a beautiful girl without thinking—don't misunderstand me,
Yorke."
"No, no, old chap!"
"I love, I reverence them; and yet they have made me fly from
London, have caused me almost to vow that I will never go back;
that I will hide my misshapen self for the rest of my weary days
——."
"Why Dolph——."
"Listen," said the duke. "Look at me, Yorke. Ah, it is unnecessary.
You know what I am. A thing for women to pity, to shudder at—not
to love! And yet"—he hid his face—"some of them have tried to
persuade me that I—I—could inspire a young girl with love; that I—I
—oh, think of it, Yorke!—that I had only to offer myself as a
husband to the most beautiful, the fairest, straightest, queenliest of
them, to be accepted!"
Yorke Auchester leaned over him.
"You take these things too seriously, Dolph," he said, soothingly. "It's
—it's the way of the world, and you can't better it; you must take it
as it comes."
"The way of the world! That a girl—young, beautiful, graceful—
should be sold by her mother and father, should be willing to sell
herself—ah, Yorke!—to a thing like me. Is that the way of the world?
What a wicked, heartless, vicious world, then; and what an unhappy
wretch am I! What fools they are, too, Yorke! They think it is so fine
a thing to wear a ducal coronet! Ha, ha!" He laughed with sad
bitterness. "So fine, that they would barter their souls to the evil one
to feel the pressure of that same coronet on their brows, to hear
other women call them 'Your Grace.' Oh, Yorke, what fools! How I
could open their eyes if they would let me! Look at me. I am the
Duke of Rothbury, Knight of the Garter—poor garter!" and he looked
at his thin leg—"and what else? I almost forget some of my titles;
and I would swap them all for a straight back and stalwart limbs like
yours. But, Yorke, to share those titles, how many women would let
me limp to the altar on their arms!"
He laughed again, still more bitterly.
"Sometimes, when some sweet-faced girl, with the look of an angel
in her eyes, with a voice like a heavenly harmony, is making what
they call 'a dead set' at me, I have hard work to restrain myself from
telling her what I think of her and those who set her at me. Yorke, it
is this part of the business which makes my life almost unendurable,
and it is only by running away from every one who knows, or has
heard of, the 'poor' Duke of Rothbury that I can put up with
existence."
"Poor old chap," murmured Lord Auchester.
"Just now," continued the duke, "as we drove up to the door, I
caught sight of a beautiful girl at the window opposite. I saw her
face grow soft with pity, with the angelic pity of a woman, which,
though it stings and cuts into one like a cut from a whip, I try to be
grateful for. She pitied me, not knowing who and what I am. Tell her
that I am the Duke of Rothbury, and in five minutes or less that
angelic look of compassion will be exchanged for the one which you
see on the face of the hunter as his prey comes within sight. She will
think, 'He is ugly, crooked, maimed for life; but he is a man, and I
can therefore marry him; he is a duke and I should be a duchess.'
And so, like a moral poison, like some plague, I blight the souls of
the best and purest. Listen to her now; that is the girl singing. What
is it? I can hear the words."
He held up his hand. Leslie was singing, quite unconscious of the
two listeners.

"My sweet girl love with frank blue eyes,

Though years have passed I see you still;
There, where you stood beside the mill,
Beneath the bright autumnal skies.
Though years have passed I love you yet;
Do you still remember, or do you forget?"

"A nice voice," said Yorke Auchester, approvingly.

"Yes; the voice of a girl-angel. No doubt she is one. She needs only
to be informed that an unmarried duke is within reach, and she'll be
in a hurry to drop to the earth, and in her hurry to reach and secure
him will not mind dragging her white wings in the mud."
"Women are built that way," said Yorke Auchester, concisely.
The duke sighed.
"Oh, yes, they are all alike. Yorke, what a fine duke you would have
made! What a mischievous, spiteful old cat Fate is, to make me a
duke and you only a younger son! How is it you don't hate and envy
me, Yorke?"
"Because I'm not a cad and a beast, I suppose," replied the young
fellow, pleasantly. "Why, Dolph, you have been the best friend a man
ever had——."
"Most men hate their best friends," put in the duke, with a sad
smile.
"Where should I have been but for you?" continued Yorke Auchester,
ignoring the parenthesis. "You have lugged me out of Queer Street
by the scruff of my neck half a dozen times. Every penny I ever had
came from you, and I've had a mint, a complete mint—and, by the
way, Dolph, I want some more."
The duke laughed wearily.
"Take as much as you want, Yorke," he said. "But for you, the money
would grow and grow till it buried and smothered me. I cannot
spend it; you must help me."
"I will; I always have," said Yorke Auchester, laughing. "It's a pity
you haven't got some expensive fad, Dolph—pictures, or coins, or
first editions, or racing."
The duke shrugged his shoulders.
"I have only one fad," he said; "to be strong and straight, and that
not even the Rothbury money can gratify. But I do get some
pleasure out of your expenditure. I fancy you enjoy yourself."
"I do."
"Yes? That is well. Some day you will marry——."
Yorke Auchester's hand dropped from the duke's shoulder.
"Marry some young girl who loves you for yourself alone."
"She's not likely to love me for anything else."
"All the better. Oh, Heaven! What would I not give for such a love as
that?" broke out the duke.
As the passionate exclamation left his lips the door opened, and Mrs.
Whiting, the landlady, came in. Her face was flushed; she was in a
state of nervous excitement, caused by a mixture of curiosity and
fear.
"I beg your pardon, your grace," she faltered, puffing timorously;
"but did you ring?"
The duke looked straight at the woman, and then up at Yorke
Auchester.
"No," said Yorke.
"I beg your grace's pardon," the curious woman began,
stammeringly; but Grey coming behind her seized her by the arm,
and, none too gently, swung her into the passage and closed the
door.
The duke looked down frowningly.
"They've found you out, Dolph," said Yorke.
The duke was silent for a moment, then he sighed.
"Yes, I suppose so; I do not know how. I am sorry. I had hoped to
stay here in peace for a few weeks, at any rate. But I must go now.
Better to be in London where everybody knows me, and has, to an
extent, grown accustomed to me."
He stopped short, and his face reddened.
"Yorke," he said, "do you think she knew which of us was the duke?"
"I don't know," replied Yorke; "I don't think she did."
"She would naturally think it was you if she didn't know," said the
duke, thoughtfully, his eyes resting on the tall form of his cousin,
who had gone to the window and was looking at the cottage
opposite. "She would never imagine me, the cripple. Don't some of
these simple folk think that a king is always at least six feet and a
half, and that he lives and sleeps in a crown? Yes, you look more like
a duke than I do, Yorke; and I wish to Heaven you were!"
"Thanks," said Yorke Auchester, not too attentively. "What a pretty
little scrap of a place this is, Dolph, and—ah——." He stopped short.
"By Jove! Dolph, what a lovely girl! Is that the one of whom you
were speaking just now?"
The duke put the plain muslin curtain aside and looked.
Leslie had come to the window, and stood, all unconscious of being
watched, with her arms raised above her head, in the act of putting
a lump of sugar between the bars of the parrot's cage.
The duke gazed at her, at first with an expression of reverent
admiration.
"Ah, yes, beautiful!" he murmured; then his face hardened and
darkened. "How good, how sweet, how innocent she looks! And yet
I'll wager all I own that she is no better than the rest. That with all
her angelic eyes and sweet childlike lips, she will be ready to barter
her beauty, her youth, her soul, for rank and wealth." He groaned,
and clutched his chair with his long, thin, and, alas! claw-like hands.
"I cannot bear it. Yorke, I meant to conceal my title, and while I
staid down here pretend to be just a poor man, an ordinary
commoner, one who would not tempt any girl to play fast and loose
with her soul. I should have liked to have made a friend of that girl;
to have seen her, talked with her every day, without the perpetual,
ever-present dread that she would try and make me marry her. But
it is too late, it seems. This woman here knows, everybody in the
place knows, or will know. It is too late, unless——."
He stopped and looked up.
"Yorke!"
"Hallo!" said that young fellow, scarcely turning his head.
"Will you—do you mind—you say you owe me something?" faltered
the duke, eagerly.
"Why, of course," assented Yorke Auchester, and he came and bent
over him. "What's the matter, Dolph? What is it you want me to do?"
"Just this," said the duke, laying his hand—it trembled—on the
strong arm; "be the Duke of Rothbury for a time, and let this
miserable cripple sink into the background. You will not refuse? Say
it is a whim; a mere fad. Sick people," he smiled, bitterly, "are
entitled to these whims and fads, you know, and I've not had many.
Humor this one; be the duke, and save me for once from the
humiliation which every young girl inflicts upon me."
Yorke Auchester's brow darkened, and he bit his lip.
"Rather a rum idea, old chap, isn't it?" he said, with an uneasy
laugh.
"Call it so if you like," responded the duke, with, if possible,
increased eagerness. "Are you going to refuse me, Yorke? By
Heaven!"—his thin face flushed—"it is the first, the only thing I have
ever asked of you——."
"Hold on!" interrupted Yorke Auchester, almost sternly. "I did not say
I would refuse; you know that I cannot. You have been the best
friend——."
The duke raised his hand.
"I knew you would not. Ring the bell, will you?" His voice, his hand,
as he pointed to the bell, trembled.
Yorke Auchester strode across the room and rang the bell.
Grey entered.
"Grey," said the duke, in a low voice, "how came this woman to
know my name?"
"It was a mistake, your grace," said Grey, troubled and remorseful.
"I let it slip when I was wiring, and the idiot at the telegraph station
in London must have wired it down to the people on his own
account. But—but, your grace, she doesn't know much after all, for
she didn't know which is the dook, as she calls it, beggin' your
pardon, your grace."
The duke nodded, clasping his hands impatiently and eagerly.
"Ring the bell. Stand aside, and say nothing," he said, in a tone of
stern command which he seldom used.
The landlady, who, like Hamlet, was fat and scant of breath, was
heard panting up the stairs, knocked timidly, and, in response to the
duke's "Come in," entered, and looked from one to the other, in a
fearsome, curious fashion.
"Did you ring?"
She would not venture to say "Your grace" this time.
The duke smiled at her.
"Yes," he said, gravely but pleasantly. "His Grace the Duke of
Rothbury will stay with me for a few days if you can give him a
room, Mrs.—Mrs.——."
"Whiting, sir, if you please. Oh, certainly, sir," and she dropped a
courtesy to Yorke Auchester. "Certainly your grace. It's humble and
homely like, but——."
Grey edged her gently and persuasively out of the room, and when
he had followed her the duke leaned back his chair, and looking up
at the handsome face of his cousin, laughed.
"It's like a scene in one of the new farces, isn't it, Yorke—I beg your
pardon, Godolphin, Duke of Rothbury?"
Farce? Yes. But at that moment began the tragedy of Leslie Lisle's
life.
 CHAPTER III.
RALPH DUNCOMBE.
The "great artist" went on painting, making the sketch more
hideously and idiotically unnatural every minute, and was so
absorbed in it that Leslie could not persuade him to leave it even for
his lunch, and he maundered from the table to the easel with a slice
of bread and butter in his hand, or held between his teeth as if he
were a performing dog.
Leslie had played and sung to him until she was tired, and she cast a
wistful glance from the window toward the blue sky and sunlit sea.
"Won't you leave it for a little while and come out on the beach,
dear?" she said, coaxingly.
But Francis Lisle shook his head.
"No, no. I am just in the vein, Leslie; nothing would induce me to
lose this light. But I wish you would go. It—it fidgets and unsettles
me to have any one in the room who wants to be elsewhere. Go out
for your walk; when you come back you will see what I have made
of it; I flatter myself you will be surprised."
If she were not it would only be because she had seen so many
similar pictures of his.
She put on her hat and dainty little Norfolk jacket of Scotch
homespun, and went out with a handkerchief of his she was
hemming in her pocket.
The narrow street was bathed in sunshine; at the open doors some
of the fisher wives were sitting or standing at their eternal knitting,
children were playing noisily in the road-way. The women, one and
all, looked up and smiled as she appeared in the open doorway, and
one or two little mites ran to her with the fearless joyousness which
is the child's indication of love.
Leslie lifted one tiny girl with blue eyes and clustering curls and
kissed her, patted the bare heads of the rest, and nodded pleasantly
to the mothers.
"Mayn't we come with 'oo?" asked the mite; but Leslie shook her
head.
"Not this afternoon, Trotty," she said, and ran away from them down
the street which led sheer on to the beach.
As a rule she allowed the children to accompany her, and play round
her as she sat at work, but this afternoon she wanted to be alone.
The arrival of the letter which her father had lost had disturbed and
troubled her.
The man from whom it had come was a certain Ralph Duncombe,
and he was one of the many unfortunates who had fallen in love
with her; but, unlike the rest, he had not been content to take "No"
for an answer, and gone away and got over it, or drowned himself,
but had persisted in hoping and striving.
She had met him at a sea-side boarding house two years before this,
had been pleasant and kind to him, as she was to everybody, but
had meant nothing more than kindliness, and was surprised and
pained when he had asked her to be his wife, and declined to take a
refusal.
Since that time he had cropped up at intervals, like a tax collector,
and it seemed as if Leslie would never convince him that there was
no hope for him. His persistence distressed her very much, but she
did not know what she could do. He was the sort of man who,
having set his heart upon a thing, would work with a dogged
earnestness until he had got it; and could not be made to
understand that women's hearts are not to be won, like a town, by a
siege, however long and stringent it may be.
She went down to the breakwater, and sat down in her favorite spot
and got out her handkerchief; and two minutes afterward there was
a patter-patter on the stones behind her, and a small black-and-tan
terrier leaped on her lap with a joyous yap.
She laughed and hugged him for a moment, then forced him down
beside her.
"Oh, Dick, what a wicked Dick you are! You've run the needle into
my finger, sir!" she said. "Look there." And she held out a tapering
forefinger with one little red drop on it.
Dick smiled in dog fashion, and attempted to bite the finger, but to
his surprise and disgust Leslie refused to play.
"I'm too busy, Dick," she said, gravely. "I want to finish this
handkerchief; besides, it's too hot. Suppose you coil yourself up like
a good little doggie, and go to sleep——. Well, if you must you must,
I suppose!" And she let him snuggle into her lap, where, seeing that
she really meant it, he immediately went to sleep.
It was a lovely afternoon. There was no one on the beach excepting
herself, and all was silent save for the drowsy yawing of the gulls
and the heavy boom of the tide as it went out, for the sea was very
seldom calm at Portmaris, and in the least windy of days there was
generally a ground-swell on.
Leslie sat and worked, and thought, thought mostly of Mr. Ralph
Duncombe, her persistent suitor; but once or twice the
remembrance of the deformed cripple who had come to lodge at
Marine Villa crossed her mind, and she was thinking of him pityingly
when the sound of footsteps crunching firmly and uncompromisingly
over the pebbles made her start, and caused the terrier to leap up
with the fury of its kind.
Leslie's brows came together as she looked up.
A middle-sized young man, with broad shoulders and a rather
clumsy but steady gait, was coming down the beach. He was not a
good-looking man. He had a big head and red hair, a large mouth
and a square jaw; his feet and hands were also large, and there was
in his air and manner something which indicated aggressiveness and
obstinacy.
Sharp men who had seen him as a boy had said, "That chap will get
on," and, unlike most prophets, they had been correct; Ralph
Duncombe had "got on." He had started as an errand boy in a city
office, and had risen step by step until he had become a partner.
Rawlings & Co. had always been well thought of in the city, but
Rawlings and Duncombe had now become respected and eminent.
His square, resolute face flushed as he saw her, but the hand with
which he took off his hat was as steady as a rock.
"Good-morning, Miss Lisle," he said, making his voice heard above
the dull roar of the sea and the shrill barking of the terrier.
Leslie held out one hand while she held the furiously struggling Dick
with the other.
He took her hand in his huge fist, and dropped heavily on the
shingle beside her.
"I didn't know you had a dog," he said, glancing at her and then at
the dog, and then at the sea, as a man does who is so much head-
over-heels in love that he cannot bear the glory of his mistress' face
all at once.
"I haven't," said Leslie, laughing in the slow, soft way which her
adorers found so bewitching—and agonizing. "He doesn't really
belong to me, though he pretends that he does. He is the
abandoned little animal of Mrs. Merrick, our landlady; but he will
follow me about and make a nuisance of himself. Be quiet, Dick, or I
shall send you home."
"I'm not surprised," said Ralph Duncombe, with a slight flush, and
still avoiding her eyes. "I can sympathize with Dick."
Leslie colored, and took up her work, leaving Dick to wander
gingerly round the visitor and smell him inquisitively.
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