“I shall not offer to go with you, darling,” said the Colonel, “because my presence would only be inconvenient. But mind you keep the cab waiting, or you may find some difficulty in getting another in that district. What address shall I give the driver?” “First to our florist in Regent Street that I may get some white flowers.” In another minute she was off, and in about an hour afterwards, she found herself outside the Red House, which looked gloomier than ever, with all the blinds drawn down. Margaret rang the front door bell, which was answered by Miss Wynward. “Can I see Madame Gobelli?” commenced Margaret, “I have just heard the sad news, and came to condole with her!” Miss Wynward let her into the hall and ushered her into a side room. “You will excuse my asking if you are a friend of her ladyship’s,” she said. “I can hardly call myself a friend,” replied Margaret, “but I stayed with her in the same hotel at Heyst last summer, and I knew the dear boy who is dead. I was most grieved to hear of his death, and naturally anxious to enquire after the Baroness. But if she is too upset to see me, of course I would not think of forcing my presence upon her!” “I don’t think her ladyship would object to receiving any friend, but I am not sure if she would recognise you!” “Not recognise me? It is not three months since we parted.” “You do not understand me! Our dear boy’s death was so sudden--I have been with him since he was five years old, so you will forgive my mentioning him in such a fashion--that it has had a terrible effect upon his poor mother. In fact she is paralysed! The medical men think the paralysis is confined to the lower limbs, but at present they are unable to decide definitely, as the Baroness has not opened her lips since the event occurred.” “Oh! poor Madame Gobelli!” cried Margaret, tearfully, “I felt sure she loved him under all her apparent roughness and indifference!” “Yes! I have been with them so long, that I know her manner amounted at times to cruelty, but she did not mean it to be so! She thought to make him hardy and independent, instead of which it had just the opposite effect! But she is paying bitterly for it now! I really think his death will kill her, though the doctors laugh at my fears!” “I--I--too have lost my only child, my precious little baby,” replied Margaret, encouraged by the sympathetic tenderness in the other woman’s eyes, “and I thought also at first that I must die--that I could not live without her--but God is so good, and there is such comfort in the thought that whatever we may suffer, our darlings have missed all the bitterness and sin and disappointments of this world, that at last--that is, sometimes--one feels _almost_ thankful that they are safe with Him!”