ate the horrors that were now partly over; but gradually he
veered round to those points as to which he thought it good that he
should speak before setting Herbert at work on his new London life.

"You drink claret, I suppose?" said Mr. Prendergast, as he adjusted a
portion of the table for their evening symposium.

"Oh yes," said Herbert, not caring very much at that moment what the
wine was.

"You'll find that pretty good; a good deal better than what you'll
get in most houses in London nowadays. But you know a man always
likes his own wine, and especially an old man."

Herbert said something about it being very good, but did not give
that attention to the matter which Mr. Prendergast thought that
it deserved. Indeed, he was thinking more about Mr. Die and Stone
Buildings than about the wine.

"And how do you find my old friend Mrs. Whereas?" asked the lawyer.

"She seems to be a very attentive sort of woman."

"Yes; rather too much so sometimes. People do say that she never
knows how to hold her tongue. But she won't rob you, nor yet poison
you; and in these days that is saying a very great deal for a woman
in London." And then there was a pause, as Mr. Prendergast sipped his
wine with slow complacency. "And we are to go to Mr. Die to-morrow, I
suppose?" he said, beginning again. To which Herbert replied that he
would be ready at any time in the morning that might be suitable.

"The sooner you get into harness the better. It is not only that you
have much to learn, but you have much to forget also."

"Yes," said Herbert, "I have much to forget indeed; more than I can
forget, I'm afraid, Mr. Prendergast."

"There is, I fancy, no sorrow which a man cannot forget; that is,
as far as the memory of it is likely to be painful to him. You
will not absolutely cease to remember Castle Richmond and all its
circumstances; you will still think of the place and all the people
whom you knew there; but you will learn to do so without the pain
which of course you now suffer. That is what I mean by forgetting."

"Oh, I don't complain, sir."

"No, I know you don't; and that is the reason why I am so anxious
to see you happy. You have borne the whole matter so well that I am
quite sure that you will be able to live happily in this new life.
That is what I mean when I say that you will forget Castle Richmond."

Herbert bethought himself of Clara Desmond, and of the woman whom he
had seen in the cabin, and reflected that e