ks he
sees a gleam of hope."

Lord Hartledon took her hand within his arm and resumed his pacing; his
eyes were fixed on the carpet, and he said nothing.

"Don't grieve as those without hope," she continued, her eyes filling
with tears. "He may yet recover. I have been praying that it may be so."

"Don't pray for it," he cried, his tone one of painful entreaty. "I have
been daring to pray that it might please God to take him."

"Percival!" she exclaimed, starting away from him.

"I am not mad, Anne. Death would be a more merciful fate for my boy than
life. Death now, whilst he is innocent, safe in Christ's love!--death, in
Heaven's mercy!"

And Anne crept back to the upper chamber, sick with terror; for she did
think that the trouble of his child's state was affecting her husband's
brain.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

A PAINFUL SCENE.

Lord and Lady Hartledon were entertaining a family group. The everlasting
dowager kept to them unpleasantly; making things unbearable, and wearing
out her welcome in no slight degree, if she had only been wise enough to
see it. She had escaped scarlet-fever and other dreaded ills; and was
alive still. For that matter, the little Lord Elster had come out of it
also: _not_ unscathed; for the boy remained a sickly wreck, and there was
very little hope that he would really recover. The final close might be
delayed, but it was not to be averted. Before Easter they had left London
for Hartledon, that he might have country air. Lord Hartledon's eldest
sister, Lady Margaret Cooper, came there with her husband; and on this
day the other sister, Lady Laura Level, had arrived from India. Lady
Margaret was an invalid, and not an agreeable woman besides; but to Laura
and Anne the meeting, after so many years' separation, was one of intense
pleasure. They had been close friends from childhood.

They were all gathered together in the large drawing-room after luncheon.
The day was a wet one, and no one had ventured out except Sir James
Cooper. Accustomed to the Scotch mists, this rain seemed a genial shower,
and Sir James was enjoying it accordingly. It was a warm, close day, in
spite of the rain; and the large fire in the grate made the room
oppressive, so that they were glad to throw the windows open.

Lying on a sofa near the fire was the invalid boy. By merely looking at
him you might see that he would never rally, though he fluctuated much.
To-day he was, comparatively speaking, well. Littl