"Many thanks--nothing. We dined at the village; and I leave again by the seven-fifty train. It is past seven now, so I have but little time to spare. I fear I am putting you to a great deal of trouble; but May's nurse insists on being taken back to London to-night." "It will be of no consequence," replied Lady Thetford, "Rupert's nurse will take charge of her. I intend to advertise for a nursery governess in a few days. Rupert's health has always been so extremely delicate, that he has not even began a pretext of learning yet, and it is quite time. He grows stronger, I fancy; but Dr. Gale tells me frankly his constitution is dangerously weak." She sighed as she spoke, and looked over to where he stood beside little May, who had mounted the rocking-horse boy-fashion. Sir Rupert was expostulating. "You oughtn't to sit that way--ask mamma. You ought to sit side-saddle. Only boys sit like that." "I don't care!" retorted Miss Everard, rocking more violently than ever. "I'll sit whatever way I like! Let me alone!" Lady Thetford looked at the captain with a smile. "Her father's daughter, surely! bent on having her own way. What a fairy it is! and yet such a perfect picture of health." "Mabel was never ill an hour in her life, I believe," said her father; "she is not at all too good for this world. I only hope she may not grow up the torment of your life--she is thoroughly spoiled." "And I fear if she were not, I should do it. Ah! I expect she will be a great comfort to me, and a world of good to Rupert. He has never had a playmate of his own years, and children need children as much as they need sunshine." They sat for ten minutes conversing gravely, chiefly on business matters connected with little May's annuity--not at all as they had conversed three days before by the seaside. Then, as half-past seven drew near, the captain arose. "I must go; I will hardly be in time as it is. Come here, little May, and bid papa good-bye." "Let papa come to May," responded his daughter, still rocking. "I can't get off." Captain Everard laughed, went over, bent down and kissed her. "Good-bye, May; don't forget papa, and learn to be a good girl. Good bye, baronet; try and grow strong and tall. Farewell, Lady Thetford, with my best thanks." She held his hand, looking up in his sun-burned face with tears in her dark eyes. "We may never meet again, Captain Everard," she said hurriedly. "Tell me before we part that you forgive me the past." "Truly, Ada, and for the first time. The service you have rendered me fully atones. You should have been my child's mother--be a mother to her now. Good-bye, and God bless you and your boy!" He stooped over, touched her cheek with his lips reverentially, and then was gone. Gone forever--never to meet those he left behind this side of eternity.