thing."

"Women are different, I suppose. I will dress, and then go down to the
breakfast-room. Tell Saunders to get me a bottle of champagne. You will
be better also if you will take a glass of wine."

It was the first word he had spoken which showed any care for her, and
she was grateful for it. As he arose to go, she came close to him again,
and put her hand very gently on his arm. "Hugh," she said, "will you not
see him?"

"What good will that do?"

"I think you would regret it if you were to let them take him away
without looking at him. He is so pretty as he lies in his little bed. I
thought you would come with me to see him." He was more gentle with her
than she had expected, and she led him away to the room which had been
their own, and in which the child had died.

"Why here?" he said, almost angrily, as he entered.

"I have had him here with me since you went."

"He should not be here now," he said, shuddering. "I wish he had been
moved before I came. I will not have this room any more; remember that."
She led him up to the foot of the little cot, which stood close by the
head of her own bed, and then she removed a handkerchief which lay upon
the child's face.

"Oh, Hugh! oh, Hugh!" she said, and throwing her arms round his neck,
she wept violently upon his breast. For a few moments he did not disturb
her, but stood looking at his boy's face. "Hugh, Hugh," she repeated,
"will you not be kind to me? Do be kind to me. It is not my fault that
we are childless."

Still he endured her for a few moments longer. He spoke no word to her,
but he let her remain there with her head upon his breast.

"Dear Hugh, I love you so truly!"

"This is nonsense," said he; "sheer nonsense." His voice was low and
very hoarse. "Why do you talk of kindness now?"

"Because I am so wretched."

"What have I done to make you wretched?"

"I do not mean that; but if you will be gentle with me, it will comfort
me. Do not leave me here all alone, how my darling has been taken from
me."

Then he shook her from him, not violently, but with a persistent action.

"Do you mean that you want to go up to town?" he said.

"Oh, no; not that."

"Then what is it you want? Where would you live, if not here?"

"Anywhere you please, only that you should stay with me."

"All that is nonsense. I wonder that you should talk of such things now.
Come away from this, and let me go to my room. All this is trash and
nonsense, and I hate