iplicity of wraps, although it was
a bright, pleasant day. His mother clung to him with tremulous hands: he
realized more than ever how much she had broken in the past year,--very
little older than Mrs. Darcy if counted by years, but whole decades if
judged by every other point.

Irene was cold and stately. She did not like coming here,--neither did
she like staying at Mrs. Minor's. Wild thoughts had flooded her brain of
going somewhere, and under a new name making a mark in the world. She
had a fine voice, and a decided talent for histrionics, but how to get
to this place where fame and fortune would be at her command? How to
bridge across any chasm? Nothing, she said to herself, but just stand
helpless, and see the great world go on, with no part nor lot in the
matter. If she must be buried alive, as well at Yerbury as anywhere.

There had never been any sentiment between her and Fred; in truth, none
of the Lawrence women ever were given to sentiment. She walked into the
little parlor with the step of a queen, and gave a cool stare around.

"I hope you will like it"--with some hesitation. "There is your piano.
And mother's room looks as it did at the Terrace, with the exception of
its being so much smaller. And here is a library. Here is our
dining-room--some of the old engravings, you see."

"Could I go to my room? Which is it, Fred?" and his mother looked up
with a weak, pleading smile.

"Yes: let me carry you. You are so thin and light now, and you must be
fatigued after all this journey;" and, taking her in his arms, he bore
her up-stairs.

It was a pleasant room over the parlor, with an alcove toward the south,
in which the mid-day sun was shining. A bright fire burned in the grate:
there were her own easy-chairs, a bit of the carpet she had once chosen,
the Persian rug she had admired so much when Fred first sent it home,
the bed with its snowy drapery, and little ornaments with their familiar
faces.

"It is delightful," she said, still clinging to her son's arm. "And I am
to stay here with you? Agatha is very good, of course; but I have always
had my own home, and if I did sign it away it was to save your poor dear
father. I don't see how things could have ended so, only, if he had
lived, it would all have been different;" and she wiped away the tears
that came so easily now.

Fred put her in the chair nearest the fire, and began to unfasten her
wraps. He had been quite an expert in delicate ways durin