“Why should you think me so?” “Because, I suppose, from the days when you were quite a little boy, you have been the principal thing I have had to think about. There was a time when I tried very hard, and very selfishly, I’m afraid, to be allowed to look after you altogether, when I wanted this house to be your home.” “Suppose I told you that all this――all my illness――was not accidental?” Mrs. Carroll displayed no alarm. “I don’t know what you mean, Peter, I’m sure,” she said, gently, disengaging her ball of wool from Miss Dick’s cat, who had stretched out a tentative paw. “I mean that I did it myself,” I answered, bringing it all out at last. “I did it on purpose.... I wanted to die, to kill myself, and I thought of this way. I went out and lay on the golf-links one whole night, in the rain, with nothing on but my night-shirt; and next morning I took ill.” Mrs. Carroll said nothing, but she had stopped knitting. I felt her hand rest on my head. “Is that true, Peter?” she asked at last, after a long pause, and in a low voice. “It’s true.” I stared into the fire. She was again silent, but she did not draw away her hand. “Why did you do this?” she asked presently. “Because I felt miserable.” “But――but it was a dreadful thing to do! Don’t you know that?” Her voice trembled slightly. I got on my knees. I put my arms round her neck and pressed my cheek against hers. “I have spoiled everything, I made a mess of everything,” I muttered quickly. “I am not very old, but I have made a mess of any life I have had.” She drew my head down on her breast and held me close. For some time she did not speak. “It will all come right, if you try,” she said at last. “The beginning is not everything.” “It is not for myself I care. It is for you.” “For me, then.” She paused. “But for me you are what you have always been and always will be, since I have no boy of my own. You are my son, the one being whom I love. Your future is what I think of and make plans for; and whenever I pray it is that you may be happy.” THE END _Wyman & Sons Ltd., Printers, London and Reading._ SELECTIONS FROM MR. EDWARD ARNOLD’S LIST OF NEW AND RECENT BOOKS NEW FICTION Bella. _By EDWARD CHARLES BOOTH, Author of “The Cliff End,” “The Doctor’s Lass,” etc. 6s._