to her
son.

DEAREST LUCIUS,

All is over between me and Sir Peregrine. It is better
that it should be so. I write to tell you this without
losing an hour. For the present I remain here with my
dear--dearest friends.

Your own affectionate mother,

M. MASON.

This note she had written in obedience to the behests of Mrs. Orme,
and even under her dictation--with the exception of one or two words,
"I remain here with my friends," Mrs. Orme had said; but Lady Mason
had put in the two epithets, and had then declared her own conviction
that she had now no right to use such language.

"Yes, of me you may, certainly," said Mrs. Orme, keeping close to her
shoulder.

"Then I will alter it," said Lady Mason. "I will write it again and
say I am staying with you."

But this Mrs. Orme had forbidden. "No; it will be better so," she
said. "Sir Peregrine would wish it. I am sure he would. He quite
agrees that--" Mrs. Orme did not finish her sentence, but the letter
was despatched, written as above. The answer which Lucius sent down
before breakfast the next morning was still shorter.

DEAREST MOTHER,

I am greatly rejoiced that it is so.

Your affectionate son,

L. M.

He sent this note, but he did not go down to her, nor was there any
other immediate communication between them.

All was now sadness at The Cleeve. Peregrine knew that that marriage
project was over, and he knew also that his grandfather and Lady
Mason did not now meet each other; but he knew nothing of the cause,
though he could not but remark that he did not see her. On that day
she did not come down either to dinner or during the evening; nor
was she seen on the following morning. He, Peregrine, felt aware
that something had occurred at that interview in the library after
breakfast, but was lost in surmising what that something had been.
That Lady Mason should have told his grandfather that the marriage
must be given up would have been only in accordance with the promise
made by her to him; but he did not think that that alone would
have occasioned such utter sadness, such deathlike silence in the
household. Had there been a quarrel Lady Mason would have gone
home;--but she did not go home. Had the match been broken off without
a quarrel, why should she mysteriously banish herself to two rooms so
that no one but his mother should see her?

And he too had his own peculiar sorrow. On that morning Sir Peregr