the damp fog.

Mrs. Vivyan was waiting for him in the breakfast-room, and presently, as
she stood there, the door opened, and a very solemn-looking face appeared.
Arthur had been nerving himself for this time; he had been trying very
hard not to cry; and he had succeeded pretty well until now, although on
the way down stairs he had to bite his lips very hard as he felt the tears
in his eyes. But now, as he came into the warm, comfortable room, and
noticed everything there, it was no use trying to keep it in any longer.
His mother had provided that morning everything he liked best, he could
see that.

"Come, dear," she said, "you must make a good breakfast to please me, you
know, Arthur." Her own face was very, very pale, and Arthur little knew
the intense effort it was to her to speak at all. So he sat down in his
own little chair, and was very still and silent for some moments; but
presently Mrs. Vivyan saw him moving his cup of coffee away, and when
there was a clear space before him he threw his arms on the table and
buried his head there. It was only just in time; for a very bitter cry
broke from his heart and his lips: "Oh, mamma, mamma, I can't go! Oh, do
stay with me! Don't you think you ought to stay?"

What could she say? What could she do, but lift up her heart to her refuge
and strength?

While she was doing this, Arthur's sobs gradually ceased, and presently he
said, in a little broken voice, "I did not mean to do it, mother; I did
try not."

But he could not eat much breakfast, and after a little while he came
nearer to her side, and said, "Just let me stay until papa comes for me. I
don't want you to talk. I only want to stay here." For Mr. Vivyan had gone
into the town, not intending to come back until just before the time, when
he would come to fetch Arthur away to the new home, where his heart
certainly was not.

So they did not speak at all during that hour; only Arthur sat with his
head pressed very closely on his mother's shoulder, and holding her hands
in both his, as if he would never loosen his hold.

By and by there was a brisk step in the hall, and out of doors carriage
wheels could be heard on the road; and then Mrs. Vivyan lifted the curly
head, that was leaning on her shoulder. Arthur knew what it meant--the
bitterest moment that had ever come to him was now at hand--and it was
only a few minutes, before the good-bye would begin the five long years of
separation.

Everything was rea