All this, however, was achieved not only unconsciously but with severe labour by a man whose powers could only act slowly, and who was not to the manner born. Conscientiousness is a costly thing, and Strafford's watchword is not to be adopted for nothing. The balance of duties, the perplexities of managing an impoverished and involved estate, the disappointment of being unable to carry out the responsibilities of a landlord towards neglected cottagers, the incapacity of doing what would have been desirable for the Church, and the worry and harass that his sister-in-law did not spare, all told as his office work had never done, and in spite of quiet, happy hours with his Mary, and her devoted and efficient aid whenever it was possible, a course of disabling neuralgic headaches had set in, and a general derangement of health, which had become alarming, and called for immediate remedy. CHAPTER XVI WHAT IS REST? 'Rest, there is nothing for it but immediate rest and warm baths,' said Lady Northmoor to Constance, who was waiting anxiously for the doctor's verdict some hours later. 'It is only being overdone--no, my dear, there is nothing really to fear, if we can only keep business and letters out of his way for a few weeks, my dear child.' For Constance, who had been dreadfully frightened by the sight of the physician's carriage, which seemed to her inexperienced eyes the omen of something terrible, fairly burst into tears of relief. 'Oh, I am so glad!' she said, as caresses passed--which might have been those of mother and daughter for heartfelt sympathy and affection. 'You will miss your Saturdays and Sundays, my dear,' continued the aunt, 'for we shall have to go abroad, so as to be quite out of the way of everything.' 'Never mind that, dear aunt, if only Uncle Frank is better. Will it be long?' 'I cannot tell. He says six weeks, Dr. Smith says three months. It is to be bracing air--Switzerland, most likely.' 'Oh, how delightful! How you will enjoy it!' 'It has always been a dream, and it is strange now to feel so downhearted about it,' said her aunt, smiling. 'Uncle Frank is sure to be better there,' said Constance. 'Only think of the snowy mountains-- Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains; They crown'd him long ago On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds, With a diadem of snow.' And the girl's eyes brightened with an enthusiasm that the elder woman felt for a moment, nor did either of them feel the verse hackneyed. 'Ah, I wish we could take you, my dear,' said Lady Northmoor; then, 'Do you know where Herbert is?' 'No,' said Constance. 'Oh, aunt, I am so sorry! I don't think he would have done it if the other boys had not teased him.'