of the king, mother, but
not of Lady Clara."

He sought his bed, and was soon soundly sleeping, content with the
thought that next week he would sail for America and have Laura's coming
out postponed. The family festivity was following too closely on the
year of mourning, at any rate. The announcement that he already had a
penniless American wife would naturally be a blow to them, all the more
so if his mother was seriously cherishing such hopes as she had
expressed; but he couldn't be a cad. His conscience smote him that his
conduct already bordered closely on the caddish, but to be an out and
out cad,--no, no.

When he awoke,--late, as he had said, but refreshed and jubilant,--the
revelation he must make seemed to him less formidable, and he was minded
to make it with no more delay as he tossed over his mail, while
breakfasting in his room.

"Ah, what is this?" A letter in his wife's hand, bearing the Liverpool
postmark! Was she on her way to him, then? "Good God!" He tore off the
cover hastily, but sat a moment with bowed head, his hand over his eyes,
before reading it.

"MY DEAR DAVID,--My husband, forgive me. I have done wrong, but I meant
to do right. They said words of you,--on our mountain, David,--words I
hated; and I lied to them and came to you. I told them you had sent for
me. I did it to prove to them that what they were saying was not true. I
took the money you gave me and came to England, and now God has
punished me, and I am going back. I know you will be surprised when I
tell you how wrong I have been. I would not write you I had borne you a
little son, because I did not want you to come back to America for his
sake, but for mine. My heart was that proud. Oh! David, forgive me."
David's face grew pale, and the paper trembled in his hand, but he read
eagerly on.

"My heart cries to you all the time. He is yours, David; forgive me. He
is very beautiful. He is like you. Your sister held him in her arms, and
I kissed her for love of you, but she did not know why. She did not
guess the beautiful baby was yours--your very own. Your mother saw him,
but she did not guess he was hers--her little grandson. I took him away
quickly. They might have kept him if they knew. You will let me have him
a little longer, won't you, David? When he is older, you will have to
take him home and educate him, but now--now--he is all I have of you.
Soon the terrible ocean will be between us again.

"It will be just the s