"That letter I had this morning was from Ireland, from mamma. I told her, when I wrote last, how I felt; and you never read such a lecture as she gave me in return. She asked me whether I was mad, that I should be going galvanizing about when I ought rather to be resting three parts of my time." "Galvanizing?" said Lord Hartledon. "So she wrote: she never waits to choose her words--you know mamma! I suppose she meant to imply that I was always on the move." "Do you feel ill, Maude?" "Not exactly ill; but--I think I ought to be careful. Percival," she breathed, "mamma asked me whether I was trying to destroy the hope of an heir to Hartledon." An ice-bolt shot through him at the reminder. Better an heir should never be born, if it must call him father! "I fainted to-day, Val," she continued to whisper. He passed his arm round his wife's waist, and drew her closer to him. Not upon her ought he to visit his sin: she might have enough to bear, without coldness from him; rather should he be doubly tender. "You did not tell me about it, love. Why have you gone out this evening?" he asked reproachfully. "It has not harmed me. Indeed I will take care, for your sake. I should never forgive myself." "I have thought since we married, Maude, that you did not much care for me." Maude made no immediate answer. She was looking out straight before her, her head on his shoulder, and Lord Hartledon saw that tears were glistening in her eyes. "Yes, I do," she said at length; and as she spoke she felt very conscious that she _was_ caring for him. His gentle kindness, his many attractions were beginning to tell upon her heart; and a vision of the possible future, when she should love him, crossed her then and there as she stood. Lord Hartledon bent his face, and let it rest on hers. "We shall be happy yet, Val; and I will be as good as gold. To begin with, we will leave London at once. I ought not to remain, and I know you have not liked it all along. It would have been better to wait until next year, when we could have had our own house; only I was impatient. I felt proud of being married; of being your wife--I did indeed, Val--and I was in a fever to be amidst my world of friends. And there's a real confession!" she concluded, laughing. "Any more?" he asked, laughing with her. "I don't remember any more just now. Which day shall we go? You shall manage things for me now: I won't be wilful again. Shall the servants go on first to Hartledon, or with us?" "To Hartledon!" exclaimed Val. "Is it to Hartledon you think of going?" "Of course it is," she said, standing up and looking at him in surprise. "Where else should I go?" "I thought you wished to go to Germany!" "And so I did; but that would not do now." "Then let us go to the seaside," he rather eagerly said. "Somewhere in England."