pt?"

"Well," said Peter, rather doubtfully, "all right, I promise. You
won't be long, I suppose?"

He glanced stealthily down towards the ferry, though he knew that
Sarah would not be there for a couple of hours at least, and that he
could reach it in less than ten minutes. But half the pleasure of
meeting Sarah consisted in waiting for her at the trysting-place.

John observed the glance, and smiled imperceptibly. He took out his
watch.

"I shall speak," he said, carefully examining it, "for four minutes."

"Let's sit," said Peter. "It's warm enough now, in all conscience."

They sat upon an old stone bench below the turret. Peter leant back
with his black head resting against the wall, his felt hat tipped
over his eyes and his pipe in his mouth. He looked comfortable, even
good-humoured.

"Go ahead," he murmured.

"To understand the case from your mother's point of view, I am
afraid it is necessary," said John, "to take a rapid glance at the
circumstances of her life which have--which have made her what she
is. She came here, as a child, didn't she, when her father died; and
though he had just succeeded to the earldom, he died a very poor man?
Your father, as her guardian, spared no pains, nor expense for
that matter, in educating and maintaining her. When she was barely
seventeen years old, he married her."

There was a slight dryness in John's voice as he made the statement,
which accounted for the gruffness of Peter's acquiescence.

"Of course--she was quite willing," said John, understanding the
offence implied by Peter's growl. "But as we are looking at things
exclusively from her point of view just now, we must not forget that
she had seen nothing of the world, nothing of other men. She had
also"--he caught his breath--"a bright, gay, pleasure-loving
disposition; but she moulded herself to seriousness to please her
husband, to whom she owed everything. When other girls of her age were
playing at love--thinking of dances, and games and outings--she was
absorbed in motherhood and household cares. A perfect wife, a perfect
mother, as poor human nature counts perfection."

Lady Mary would have cried out in vehement contradiction and
self-reproach, had she heard these words; but Peter again growled
reluctant acquiescence, when John paused.

"In one day," said John, slowly, "she was robbed of husband and child.
Her husband by death; her boy, her only son, by his own will. He
deserted her without even