with Agnes for enforcing it.

Margot turned the handle of the door and stood upon the threshold
looking across the room.

It was as she had imagined. On the big leather chair beside the
tireless grate sat Mr Vane, one hand supporting the pipe at which he
was drearily puffing from time to time, the other hanging limp and idle
by his side. Close at hand stood his writing-table, the nearer corner
piled high with books, papers, and reviews, but to-night they had
remained undisturbed. The inner tragedy of the man's own life had
precluded interest in outside happenings. He wanted his wife! That was
the incessant cry of his heart, which, diminished somewhat by the
passage of the years, awoke to fresh intensity at each new crisis of
life! The one love of his youth and his manhood; the dearest, wisest,
truest friend that was ever sent by God to be the helpmeet of man--why
had she been taken from him just when he needed her most, when the
children were growing up, and her son, the longed-for Benjamin, was at
his most susceptible age? It was a mystery which could never be solved
this side of the grave. As a Christian Mr Vane hung fast to the belief
that love and wisdom were behind the cloud; but, though his friends
commented on his bravery and composure, no one but himself knew at what
a cost his courage was sustained. Every now and then, when the longing
was like an ache in his soul, and when he felt weary and dispirited, and
irritated by the self-will of the children who were children no longer,
then, alas! he was apt to forget himself, and to utter bitter, hasty
words which would have grieved _her_ ears, if she had been near to
listen. After each of these outbreaks he suffered tortures of remorse
and loneliness, realising that by his own deed he had alienated his
children; grieving because they did not, could not understand!

Except, perhaps, Margot! Margot, the third little daughter, whose
coming in the place of the much-desired boy had been a keen
disappointment to both parents. The mother had been doubly tender to
the child, as if to compensate for that passing pang; but Mr Vane
recalled with contrition that he himself had remained indifferent and
neglectful until two or three years later, when at last Ronald had made
his tardy appearance. Then ensued constant visits to the nursery, to
examine the progress of the son and heir; and after the daily
questioning and inspection it was impossible to resist bestowin