y pang which
I knew the sight of the grave would give me.

It is of course impossible for me to linger over that cruise, or to
record any of the incidents that took place at the ports at which we
touched and landed. My recovery, or rather my partial recovery, was
slower than the doctor had anticipated. Weeks and months passed, and
still there seemed but little improvement in me.

The result was that I was obliged to yield to the importunities of my
mother, and to the urgent advice of Dr. Finch, to remain on board
Sleaford's yacht during the entire cruise, and afterwards to go with
them to Italy.

Absence from England gave me not the smallest respite from the grief
that was destroying me.

My parting with my mother was a very pathetic one. She was greatly
changed, and I knew why. The furrows Time sets on the face can never
be mistaken for those which are caused by the passions. The struggle
between pride and remorse had been going on apace; her sufferings had
been as great as my own.

It was in Rome we parted. We were sitting in the cool, perfumed
atmosphere of St. Peter's, and for the moment a soothing wave seemed
to pass over my soul. For some little time there had been silence
between us. At length I said, 'Mother, it seems strange indeed for me
to have to say to you that you blame yourself too much for the part
you took in the tragedy of Winnie. When you sent her into Wales you
didn't know that her aunt was dead; you did it, as you thought, for
her good as well as for mine.'

She rose as if to embrace me, and then sank down again.

'But you don't know all, Henry; you don't know all. I knew her aunt
was dead, though Shales did not, or he would never have taken her.
All that concerned me was to get her away before your own recovery. I
thought there might be relatives of hers or friends whom Shales might
find. But I was possessed by a frenzied desire to get her away. For
years my eyes had been fixed on the earldom. I had been told by your
aunt that Cyril was consumptive, and also that he was very unlikely
to marry.'

I could not suppress a little laugh. 'Ha, ha! Cyril consumptive! No
man's stronger and sounder, I am glad to tell you; but if by
ill-chance he should die and the title should come to me, then,
mother, I'll wear the coronet, and it shall be made of the best
gingerbread gilt and ornamented thus. I'll give public lectures on
the British aristocracy and its origin, and its present relations to
t