“My life!” He laughed and dropped her hands. “Would you care, Madam, if I were dead? Would you shed any tears? Not you! Why should you? At this late hour of time, when after twenty-one years passed in each other’s close company we are no nearer to each other in heart and soul than if the sea murmuring yonder at the foot of these walls were stretching its whole width between us! Besides--we are both past our youth! And, according to certain highly instructed scientists and philosophers, the senses and affections grow numb with age. I do not believe this theory myself--for the jejune love of youth is as a taper’s flame to the great and passionate tenderness of maturity, when the soul, and not the body, claims its due; when love is not dragged down to the vulgar level of mere cohabitation, after the fashion of the animals in a farmyard, but rises to the best height of human sympathy and intelligent comprehension. Who knows!--I may experience such a love as that yet,--and so may you!” She was silent. “Talking of love,”--he went on--“May I ask whether our son,--or rather the nation’s son, Humphry,--ever makes you his confidante?” “Never!” she replied. “I thought not! We do not seem to be the kind of parents admired in moral story-books, Madam! We are not the revered darlings of our children. In fact, our children have the happy disposition of animal cubs,--once out of the nursing stage, they forget they ever had parents. It is quite the natural and proper thing, born as they were born,--it would never do for them to have any over-filial regard for us. Imagine Humphry weeping for my death, or yours! What a grotesque idea! And as for Rupert and Cyprian,--it is devoutly to be hoped that when we die, our funerals may be well over before the great cricket matches of the year come on, as otherwise they will curse us for having left the world at an inconvenient season!” He laughed. “How sentiment has gone out nowadays, or how it seems to have gone out! Yet it slumbers in the heart of the nation,--and if it should ever awaken,--well!--it will be dangerous! I asked you about Humphry, because I imagine he is entangled in some love-affair. If it should be agreeable to your humour to go with me across to The Islands one day this week, we may perhaps by chance discover the reason of his passion for that particular kind of scenery!” The Queen’s eyes opened wonderingly. “The Islands!” she repeated,--“The Islands? Why, only the coral-fishers live there,--they have a community of their own, and are jealous of all strangers. What should Humphry do there?”