has cursed me ever since."

"No, no," said Janetta, kissing her troubled face, "Wyvis would never
curse his mother for doing what she thought right. Wyvis loves you.
Surely you know that--you believe that? Wyvis is not a bad son."

"No, my dear, not a bad son, but a cruelly injured one," said Mrs.
Brand. "And he blames me. I cannot blame him: it was all my fault for
not opposing Mark when he wanted me to help him to carry out his wicked
scheme."

"I think," said Janetta, tentatively, "that Cuthbert has more right to
feel himself injured than Wyvis."

"Cuthbert?" Mrs. Brand repeated, in an indifferent tone. "Oh, Cuthbert
is of no consequence: his father always said so. A lame, sickly,
cowardly child! If we had had a strong, healthy lad of our own, Mark
would not have put Wyvis in Cuthbert's place, but with a boy like
Cuthbert, what would you expect him to do?"

It seemed to Janetta almost as if her mind were beginning to wander: the
references to Cuthbert's boyish days appeared to be so extraordinarily
clear and defined--almost as though she were living again through the
time when Cuthbert was supplanted by her boy Wyvis. But when she spoke
again, Mrs. Brand's words were perfectly clear, and apparently
reasonable in tone.

"I often think that if I could do my poor boy some great service, he
would forgive me in heart as well as in deed. I would do anything in the
world for him, Janetta, if only I could give him back the happiness of
which I robbed him."

Janetta could not exactly see that the poor mother's sins had been so
great against Wyvis as against Cuthbert, but it was evident that Mrs.
Brand could never be brought to look at matters in this light. The
thought that she had injured her first-born son had taken possession of
her completely, and seriously disturbed the balance of her faculties.
The desire to make amends to Wyvis for her wrong-doing had already
reached almost a maniacal point: how much further it might be carried
Janetta never thought of guessing.

She was anxious about Mrs. Brand, but more so for her physical than for
her mental strength. For her powers were evidently failing in every
direction, and the doctor spoke warningly to Janetta of the weakness of
her heart's action, and the desirability of shielding her from every
kind of agitation. It was impossible to provide against every kind of
shock, but Janetta promised to do her best.

The winter was approaching before Janetta's letter to Wy