For a long time Sir Rupert seemed to take but little notice of her vagaries. When the county folk commiserated him, and inquired after poor Lady Farrington, he merely shrugged his shoulders and touched his forehead in a melancholy pitying way. She had had so much trouble in her time, poor soul. It was very dreadful of course. But what could be done? She had every care and attention he could secure for her. He went to see her frequently in spite of her strange dislike, so did his wife. He did his duty by her as well as he possibly could. She was harmless, and as he thought perfectly safe. She had good servants about her; he himself saw to that, and there was no necessity to put her under restraint--unless indeed, she became very much worse. If her malady increased to the extent of endangering the safety of those about her or of the house--by no means a secondary consideration with him--why then, as a last alternative, she must be shut up. He did not conceal from her, however, that this would ultimately be her fate. More than once he warned her that he knew her condition, and would some day be compelled to take steps to make her secure. But he said this with no object but to prove his power, and Lady Farrington would probably have been left to pursue the curious tenour of her ways, had not her mania taken a direction which threatened to be distinctly inconvenient to Sir Rupert. Of all the woes which Lady Farrington suffered, the keenest perhaps was remorse for her treatment of her second son. As has been said, she had looked upon him always with disfavour; Herbert never could please. Where another more tenderly cared for would have been gently corrected, he was called wilful, obstinate, perverse, and sharply chided and admonished. He it was who was always in the wrong; he it was who led the other boys into mischief. It was his fault, or said to be his, when the boat upset, or the ice broke, or the gun went off, or any mishap occurred. As he grew to man’s estate his mother’s indifference did not soften into warmer feelings. Poor Herbert failed at school and college, the obvious consequence of early neglect. He could not pass the army examination, although he longed to wear a red coat. All he could do was to roam the woods with dog and gun at Farrington, consorting with grooms and keepers, enjoying an open air life the more because he thereby escaped from the house and his mother’s sneers. But these last, although thus rarely encountered, became at length unbearable, and one fine morning Herbert was not to be found. He had gone off, leaving a note to say that pursuit or inquiry would be fruitless, as he meant to leave England for good and all; nothing should induce him to return to Farrington Hall. The blow fell heaviest upon Lady Farrington, who felt that she had been principally to blame. Prompt search was accordingly instituted, but all to no purpose.