ise to be happy again,' she
said, kissing her with the utmost affection. 'Remember how necessary you
are to us. What would any of us do without you? To-morrow I shall bring
your godson to see you.'

Then, at the thought of her baby-nephew, a faint smile crossed Audrey's
face.

CHAPTER XL

MICHAEL ACCEPTS HIS CHARGE

'Try how the life of the good man suits thee: the life of him who
is satisfied with his portion out of the whole, and satisfied with
his own just acts and benevolent disposition.'--M. AURELIUS
ANTONINUS.

Michael's morning in the schoolroom had been truly purgatorial;
fortunately for him, it was a half-holiday, and the luncheon-hour set
him free from his self-imposed duties. On his way to his own room, he
had overheard Geraldine's voice speaking to her father, and he at once
guessed the reason why Dr. Ross had invited her into the study.

He had never been less enamoured of solitude and of his own society;
nevertheless, he told himself that any amount of isolation would be
preferable to the penalty of hearing Geraldine discuss the matter. He
could hear in imagination her clear sensible premises and sound, logical
conclusion, annotated by womanly lamentations over such a family
disaster. The probable opinions of Mrs. Bryce and Mrs. Charrington would
be cited and commented on, and, in spite of her very real sympathy with
her sister, Michael shrewdly surmised that the knowledge that the Blake
influence was waning would give her a large amount of comfort in the
future.

When Crauford announced that the ladies were having tea in the
drawing-room, he begged that a cup might be sent up to him.

'Will you tell Mrs. Harcourt that I have a headache?' he said; and, as
Crauford delivered the message, Geraldine looked meaningly at her
mother.

'I expect Michael has taken all this to heart,' she said, as soon as
Crauford had left the room; 'he is very feeling, and then he is so fond
of Audrey.' And as Mrs. Ross sighed in assent, she went on with the
topic that was engrossing them at that moment--how Audrey was to be
induced to leave home for a while.

Michael's table was strewn with books, and one lay open on his knee, but
he had not once turned the page. How was he to read when the very
atmosphere seemed charged with heaviness and oppression?

'She thinks that she loves him, and therefore she will suffer,' he said
to himself over and over again; 'and it will be for the first tim