he moment in which they can pour out all their sorrows and their
selfishness into some confiding ear. It is no ordinary pleasure with
them to taste the sympathy of a willing listener. Layton felt all the
ecstasy of such a moment, and he told not alone of himself and his
plans and his hopes, but of his son Alfred,--what high gifts the youth
possessed, and how certain was he, if common justice should be but
accorded to him, to win a great place in the world's estimation.

"The Captain" was an eager listener to all the other said, and never
interrupted, save to throw in some passing word of encouragement, some
cheering exhortation to bear up bravely and courageously.

Layton's heart warmed with the words of encouragement, and he confided
many a secret source of hope that he had never revealed before. He told
how, in the course of his labors, many an unexpected discovery had burst
upon him,--now some great fact applicable to the smelting of metals,
now some new invention available to agriculture. They were subjects, he
owned, he had not pursued to any perfect result, but briefly committed
to some rough notes, reserving them for a time of future leisure.

"And if I cannot convince the world," said he, laughingly, "that they
have neglected and ignored a great genius, I hope, at least, to make
_you_ a convert to that opinion."

"You see those tall elms yonder?" said Holmes, as they drew nigh Dublin.
"Well, screened beneath their shade lies the little cottage I have told
you about. Quiet and obscure enough now, but I 'm greatly mistaken if
it will not one day be remembered as the spot where Herbert Layton lived
when he brought his great discovery to completion."

"Do you really think so?" cried Layton, with a swelling feeling about
the heart as though it would burst his side. "Oh, if I could only come
to feel that hope myself! How it would repay me for all I have gone
through! How it would reconcile me to my own heart!"

CHAPTER XIII. HOW THEY LIVED AT THE VILLA

The Heathcotes had prolonged their stay at Marlia a full month beyond
their first intention. It was now November, and yet they felt most
unwilling to leave it. To be sure, it was the November of Italy in one
of its most favored spots. The trees had scarcely began to shed their
leaves, and were only in that stage of golden and purple transition that
showed the approach of winter. The grass was as green, and the dog-roses
as abundant, as in May; indeed, it wa