"My dear, every one has their own row to hoe; how do you know that Providence has not sent you to brighten your home, and refine--and raise your surroundings?" Verona gave a sort of gasping, hysterical laugh. "I grant you that your mother and Dominga may not be altogether sympathetic, but you would have immense influence with Pussy and Nicky; she is indolent, sweet-tempered, easily led; and Nicky is extremely clever, but only half-educated, poor boy! they took him away from the Martinière school, and he has loafed about ever since. Brian Salwey declares that he has a capital head-piece; all he wants is some one at home to urge him on, to set to making his way in the world. But he is losing his best days slacking about Manora, playing tennis and making hencoops. Now you should take him--and Pussy in hand." "I? how do you mean? What can I do?" "Do? Why teach them! Give them a couple of hours English and French lessons of a morning. I can lend you some books. Let them do English and French dictation, and reading; Green's 'History of the English People' and Macaulay's 'Essays' will keep them going. I'm sure Pussy will be all the better for a little arithmetic and spelling. You'll find that it will interest you--and employ them." Verona made no reply. "Then there is your father, dear; have you thought of him?" "Yes, he scarcely ever opens his lips to me or any one; he appears to accept everything as it is, and to be sunk in a sort of lethargy." "Oh, my dear child, if you only knew his life as my husband related it to me, you would be sorry, and make allowances for his silence. He has been a scapegoat for others: he has remained out here for twenty-eight years, and fallen away from the memory of all his old friends. You call him lethargic? Well, I daresay his feelings are benumbed. Early in life he received a terrible shock, which has stunned him. Once he was one of the cheeriest young fellows; what a contrast to his present condition! He just grinds away at his post like a horse in a mill, in order to support his family. You and he should be especial friends." "Yes--but why?" "Because, presumably, you are a Chandos; you know England--his native country; the others do not. There is one bond. You like books and perhaps chess--so does he; you might easily bring some light and warmth into the poor man's grey life. Will you try, dear?" "Yes; but I don't think it will be of the smallest use!" "It will! In occupation you will soon forget yourself." "I hope I may--for I hate myself at present." "You hate everything just now, because you are in low spirits and weak health. Adopt my prescription--it will cure you. You and I might have some long drives and talks together, but I am aware that I may not enjoy your company too often."