"ought I
not to be very glad that it can do so much good? Lady Rockminster sleeps
very little of nights: and I used to read to her until I fell ill at
Paris, since when she will not hear of my sitting up."

"Why did you not write to me when you were ill?" asked Pen, with a
blush.

"What good could you do me? I had Martha to nurse me and the doctor
every day. You are too busy to write to women or to think about them.
You have your books and your newspapers, and your politics and your
railroads to occupy you. I wrote when I was well."

And Pen looked at her, and blushed again, as he remembered that,
during all the time of her illness, he had never written to her and had
scarcely thought about her.

In consequence of his relationship, Pen was free to walk and ride with
his cousin constantly, and in the course of those walks and rides,
could appreciate the sweet frankness of her disposition, and the truth,
simplicity, and kindliness of her fair and spotless heart. In their
mother's lifetime, she had never spoken so openly or so cordially as
now. The desire of poor Helen to make an union between her two children,
had caused a reserve on Laura's part towards Pen; for which, under the
altered circumstances of Arthur's life, there was now no necessity.
He was engaged to another woman; and Laura became his sister at
once,--hiding, or banishing from herself, any doubts which she might
have as to his choice; striving to look cheerfully forward, and hope for
his prosperity; promising herself to do all that affection might do to
make her mother's darling happy.

Their talk was often about the departed mother. And it was from a
thousand stories which Laura told him that Arthur was made aware how
constant and absorbing that silent maternal devotion had been; which had
accompanied him present and absent through life, and had only ended with
the fond widow's last breath. One day the people in Clavering saw a lad
in charge of a couple of horses at the churchyard-gate: and it was told
over the place that Pen and Laura had visited Helen's grave together.
Since Arthur had come down into the country, he had been there once or
twice: but the sight of the sacred stone had brought no consolation to
him. A guilty man doing a guilty deed: a mere speculator, content to lay
down his faith and honour for a fortune and a worldly career; and owning
that his life was but a contemptible surrender--what right had he in the
holy place? what booted i