to the lower. The house and the lake had
disappeared, to be seen no more.

CHAPTER XXIV. IN THE SHADOW OF ST. PAUL'S.

In ten days I was at home again--and my mother's arms were round me.

I had left her for my sea-voyage very unwillingly--seeing that she was
in delicate health. On my return, I was grieved to observe a change for
the worse, for which her letters had not prepared me. Consulting our
medical friend, Mr. MacGlue, I found that he, too, had noticed my
mother's failing health, but that he attributed it to an easily
removable cause--to the climate of Scotland. My mother's childhood and
early life had been passed on the southern shores of England. The change
to the raw, keen air of the North had been a trying change to a person
at her age. In Mr. MacGlue's opinion, the wise course to take would be
to return to the South before the autumn was further advanced, and
to make our arrangements for passing the coming winter at Penzance or
Torquay.

Resolved as I was to keep the mysterious appointment which summoned
me to London at the month's end, Mr. MacGlue's suggestion met with no
opposition on my part. It had, to my mind, the great merit of obviating
the necessity of a second separation from my mother--assuming that she
approved of the doctor's advice. I put the question to her the same day.
To my infinite relief, she was not only ready, but eager to take the
journey to the South. The season had been unusually wet, even for
Scotland; and my mother reluctantly confessed that she "did feel a
certain longing" for the mild air and genial sunshine of the Devonshire
coast.

We arranged to travel in our own comfortable carriage by post--resting,
of course, at inns on the road at night. In the days before railways
it was no easy matter for an invalid to travel from Perthshire to
London--even with a light carriage and four horses. Calculating our rate
of progress from the date of our departure, I found that we had just
time, and no more, to reach London on the last day of the month.

I shall say nothing of the secret anxieties which weighed on my mind,
under these circumstances. Happily for me, on every account, my mother's
strength held out. The easy and (as we then thought) the rapid rate of
traveling had its invigorating effect on her nerves. She slept better
when we rested for the night than she had slept at home. After twice
being delayed on the road, we arrived in London at three o'clock on the
afternoon of the