“No,” she said, as though answering her--“no, he’s too little.” She paused, and again there was that groping movement of her hands. “His letter,” she muttered, “his letter! My dear mamma! my dear mamma!” There was a restless distress in the glazed eyes now, and their glance tore Clemence’s heart. The feeble hands were moving painfully, and as she watched, with her tears falling fast in her impotent pity and longing to satisfy their craving, something in their movements, all unmeaning as they seemed at first, penetrated to Clemence’s understanding with one of those strange flashes of comprehension only possible under so tense a strain of sympathy. Those nerveless hands were feeling for a pocket! In an instant Clemence had risen, crossed the room, and put her hand into the pocket of the dress which Mrs. Romayne had worn. Her finger touched a paper, and she drew it out instantly. She saw that it was yellow and faded with age, and she moved quickly back with it to the bedside. The hands and the eyes were still moving, but the muttered words were audible no longer, and as Clemence put the paper gently between the thin fingers, she felt with a sudden thrill of awe that they were growing cold. But the touch seemed to rouse Mrs. Romayne once more. Her fingers closed on the paper as if instinctively, and the restless distress died out of her eyes as she tried--vainly--to unfold the paper. Clemence put out her hand gently, and did the work for which the dying fingers had no strength, and on the dying face there dawned a pale, shadowy smile. “Yes!” she said. “Yes! ‘My dear mamma!’ My dear mamma! Your loving--son--Julian!” And with her son’s name on her lips, Mrs. Romayne left him behind, and passed from ignorance to knowledge. * * * * * The trial and conviction of Julian Romayne were a nine days’ wonder in society. The people who had most readily and carelessly received the widow and son of William Romayne, asked one another with the martyred air of those whose charity has been abused and their feelings for morality outraged, what was to be expected after all of the son of such a father? The people whose feelings for morality had been outraged at the outset by Mrs. Romayne’s reappearance in London, and soothed subsequently by the simplicity of the position, observed sagely that they had always said so. Both parties were unanimous in the assertion that the young man’s life was practically at an end. He had forfeited his place in society for ever. But Julian himself realised gradually and painfully during the years of his punishment; with the strength of a manhood attained through pain, when he went away to a new country with his wife and child; that his life had just begun. THE END F. M. EVANS & CO., LIMITED, PRINTERS, CRYSTAL PALACE, S.E. January, 1894. A CLASSIFIED CATALOGUE OF BOOKS IN GENERAL LITERATURE PUBLISHED BY MACMILLAN AND CO.