‘If an angel would but visit our house as he visited the house of Lot!’ said Montacute, in a tone almost of anguish. ‘Angels have performed their part,’ said the duke. ‘We have received instructions from one higher than angels. It is enough for all of us.’ ‘It is not enough for me,’ said Lord Montacute, with a glowing cheek, and rising abruptly. ‘It was not enough for the Apostles; for though they listened to the sermon on the mount, and partook of the first communion, it was still necessary that He should appear to them again, and promise them a Comforter. I require one,’ he added, after a momentary pause, but in an agitated voice. ‘I must seek one. Yes! my dear father, it is of this that I would speak to you; it is this which for a long time has oppressed my spirit, and filled me often with intolerable gloom. We must separate. I must leave you, I must leave that dear mother, those beloved parents, in whom are concentred all my earthly affections; but I obey an impulse that I believe comes from above. Dearest and best of men, you will not thwart me; you will forgive, you will aid me!’ And he advanced and threw himself into the arms of his father. The duke pressed Lord Montacute to his heart, and endeavoured, though himself agitated and much distressed, to penetrate the mystery of this ebullition. ‘He says we must separate,’ thought the duke to himself. ‘Ah! he has lived too much at home, too much alone; he has read and pondered too much; he has moped. Eskdale was right two years ago. I wish I had sent him to Paris, but his mother was so alarmed; and, indeed, ‘tis a precious life! The House of Commons would have been just the thing for him. He would have worked on committees and grown practical. But something must be done for him, dear child! He says we must separate; he wants to travel. And perhaps he ought to travel. But a life on which so much depends! And what will Katherine say? It will kill her. I could screw myself up to it. I would send him well attended. Brace should go with him; he understands the Continent; he was in the Peninsular war; and he should have a skilful physician. I see how it is; I must act with decision, and break it to his mother.’ These ideas passed through the duke’s mind during the few seconds that he embraced his son, and endeavoured at the same time to convey consolation by the expression of his affection, and his anxiety at all times to contribute to his child’s happiness. ‘My dear son,’ said the duke, when Lord Montacute had resumed his seat, ‘I see how it is; you wish to travel?’ Lord Montacute bent his head, as if in assent.