"Do not look so alarmed, Helen. No, not Edinburg. It is best to break off all associations there--he wishes it himself. He would like to go to a new University--St. Andrew's." "But he knows nobody there. He would be quite alone. For I can not-- do you not see I can not?--leave my father. Oh, it is like being pulled in two," cried Mrs. Bruce, in great distress. "Be patient, Helen, and hear. We have arranged it all, the boy and I. Next week we are both bound for St. Andrew's." "You?" "You think I shall be useless? That it is a man, and not such a creature as I, who ought to take charge of your boy?" The earl spoke with that deep bitterness which sometimes, though very, very rarely, he betrayed, till he saw what exceeding pain he had given. "Forgive me, Helen; I know you did not mean that; but it was what I myself often thought until this morning. Now I see that after all I-- even I--may be the very best person to go with the boy, because, while keeping a safe watch over him, and a cheerful house always open to him, I shall also give him somebody to take care of. I shall be as much charge to him almost as a woman, and it will be good for him. Do you not perceive this?" Helen did, clearly enough. "Besides," continued the earl, "I might, perhaps, like to see the world myself--just once again. At any rate, I shall like to see it through this young man's eyes. He has not told you of our plan yet?" "Not a word." "That is well. I like to see he can keep faith. I made him promise not, because I wanted to tell you myself, Helen--I wanted to see how you would take the plan. Will you let us go? That is, the boy must go, and--you will do without me for a year?" "A whole year! Can not Cardross come home once--just once?" "Yes, I will manage it so; he shall come, even if I can not," replied the earl, and then was silent. "And you," said Mrs. Bruce, suddenly, after a long meditation upon her son and his future, "you leave, for a year, your home, your pleasant life here; you change all your pursuits and plans, and give yourself no end of trouble, just to go and watch over my boy, and keep his mother's heart from aching! How can I ever thank you--ever reward you?" No, she never could. "It is an ugly word, 'reward;' I don't like it. And, Helen, I thought thanks were long since set aside as unnecessary between you and me." "And you will be absent a whole year?" "Probably, or a little more; for the boy ought to keep two sessions at least; and locomotion is not so easy to me as it is to Cardross. Yes, my dear, you will have to part with me--I mean I shall have to part with you--for a year. It is a long time in our short lives. I would not do it--give myself the pain of it--for any thing in this world except to make Helen happy." "Thank you; I know that."