's
heart to rejoice. But if a man have a real sorrow, wine will not wash
it away,--not though a man were drowned in it, as Clarence was."

Mr. Glascock hitherto had spoken hardly a word. There was an attempt
at joviality about this breakfast,--or, at any rate, of the usual
comfortable luxury of hospitable entertainment,--which, coming as it
did from Trevelyan, almost locked his lips. He had not come there to
be jovial or luxurious, but to perform a most melancholy mission; and
he had brought with him his saddest looks, and was prepared for a
few sad words. Trevelyan's speech, indeed, was sad enough, but Mr.
Glascock could not take up questions of the worship of Bacchus at
half a minute's warning. He eat a morsel, and raised his glass to his
lips, and felt himself to be very uncomfortable. It was necessary,
however, that he should utter a word. "Do you not let your little boy
come in to breakfast?" he said.

"He is better away," said Trevelyan gloomily.

"But as we are to travel together," said Mr. Glascock, "we might as
well make acquaintance."

"You have been a little hurried with me on that score," said
Trevelyan. "I wrote certainly with a determined mind, but things have
changed somewhat since then."

"You do not mean that you will not send him?"

"You have been somewhat hurried with me, I say. If I remember
rightly, I named no time, but spoke of the future. Could I have
answered the message which I received from you, I would have
postponed your visit for a week or so."

"Postponed it! Why,--I am to be married the day after to-morrow.
It was just as much as I was able to do, to come here at all." Mr.
Glascock now pushed his chair back from the table, and prepared
himself to speak up. "Your wife expects her child now, and you will
break her heart by refusing to send him."

"Nobody thinks of my heart, Mr. Glascock."

"But this is your own offer."

"Yes, it was my own offer, certainly. I am not going to deny my own
words, which have no doubt been preserved in testimony against me."

"Mr. Trevelyan, what do you mean?" Then, when he was on the point of
boiling over with passion, Mr. Glascock remembered that his companion
was not responsible for his expressions. "I do hope you will let
the child go away with me," he said. "You cannot conceive the state
of his mother's anxiety, and she will send him back at once if you
demand it."

"Is that to be in good faith?"

"Certainly, in good faith. I would lend mys