"That is a good idea," he said. "Anderson can arrange a consultation. I will see him to-morrow, and suggest it." I did not say any more, for just then mother turned and said something to Mr. Randolph, and Mr. Randolph bent forward and talked to mother in that worshipping son-like way with which he generally addressed her. If mother had ever been blessed with a son, he could not have been more attentive nor sweeter than Jim Randolph was, and I found myself liking him more than ever, just because he was so good to mother, and my heart ached at the prospect of his enforced and long absence. So much did this thought worry me, that I could not help saying to him as we were leaving the theatre-- "I am very sorry that you are going." "Is that true?" he said. His face lit up, his eyes sparkled; all the tired expression left his eyes and mouth. "Are you saying what you mean?" he asked. "I am most truly sorry. You have become indispensable to mother; she will miss you sorely." "And you--will you miss me?" I tried to say "For mother's sake I will," but I did not utter the words. Mr. Randolph gave me a quick glance. "I have not told your mother yet that I am going," he said. "I wondered if you had," I replied. "I thought of telling her myself to-day." "Do not say anything until nearer the time," was his somewhat guarded response. "Ah! here comes the carriage." "So you did order the carriage after all," I said, seeing that the same neat brougham which he had used on the last occasion stopped the way. "You never forbade me to see you both home in the carriage," he said with a laugh. "Now then, Mrs. Wickham." Mother had been standing a little back out of the crowd. He went to her, gave her his arm, and she stepped into the carriage, just as if it belonged to her. Mother had always that way with Mr. Randolph's possessions, and sometimes her manner towards him almost annoyed me. What could it mean. Did she know something about him which I had never heard of nor guessed? The next day about noon Mr. Randolph entered Jane's sitting-room, where I often spent the mornings. "I have just come from Anderson's," he said. "He will make an appointment with Dr. Reade to see your mother to-morrow." "But on what plea?" I asked. "Mother is somewhat nervous. I am sure it would not be at all good for her to think that her indisposition was so great that two doctors must see her." "Anderson will arrange that," replied Mr. Randolph. "He has told your mother once or twice lately that he thinks her very weak, and would like her to try a new system of diet. Now Reade is a great specialist for diseases of the digestion. Both doctors will guard against any possible shock to your mother." "Well," I said somewhat petulantly, "I cannot imagine why you are nervous about her. She is quite as well as she ever was."