only take
me!'

'It is impossible, mother; I shall have no home for you. You must stay
here quietly with Mollie and Kester, until my plans are more settled.'

And then he rose, as though to put an end to the discussion.

'And you go to-morrow?'

'Yes, to-morrow. Will you ask Mollie to look after my things?'

Then, as she gazed at him with troubled eyes, he bent over her and
kissed her forehead. 'We must begin afresh,' he said, half to himself,
as he left the room.

CHAPTER XLII

'WILL YOU SHAKE HANDS WITH YOUR FATHER?'

'It is peculiar to man to love even those who do wrong. And this
happens if, when they do wrong, it occurs to thee that they are
kinsmen, and that they do wrong through ignorance and
unintentionally, and that soon both of you will die; and above all,
that the wrongdoer hath done thee no harm, for he hath not made thy
ruling faculty worse than it was before.'--M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS.

'To err is human; to forgive, divine.'

The drive to Brail that afternoon was a silent one; grim care sat on the
two young faces, and Michael, with his usual tact, devoted himself to
his mare. Now and then her skittishness gave him an opportunity of
saying a word or two, to which Cyril replied in monosyllables.

When they had left the inn, and were almost in sight of the cottage,
Michael suddenly asked Cyril if he had ever seen Mr. O'Brien. 'Thomas
O'Brien,' he added quickly.

'You mean my uncle?' returned Cyril curtly. 'No; I have never seen him.'

'Then I should like to tell you something about him. Of all the men I
have ever known, Thomas O'Brien is the one I have most honoured. I have
always had the greatest respect for him--for his honesty, integrity, and
child-like simplicity. In spite of his want of culture, he is the
gentleman his Creator intended him to be. Let me tell you, Blake, that
you may be proud to call such a man your uncle.' And with these words
Michael unlatched the little gate, and waited for them to follow him.

They were not unperceived. Long before they reached the porch the
cottage door was open, and Thomas O'Brien's genial face and strong,
thick-set figure blocked up the doorway.

Michael was about to speak, when, to his surprise, Cyril lifted his hat,
and then extended his hand to the old man.

'I believe you are my uncle, sir,' he said quietly. 'There can be no
need of an introduction: I am Cyril, and this is my brother Kester.'

A sof