Lord Chetwynde's occupations kept him for the greater part of his time in his father's library, where he busied himself in examining papers. Many of these he read and restored to their places, but some he put aside, in order to take them with him. Of the new steward he took no notice whatever. He considered the dismissal of the old one and the appointment of Gualtier one of those abominable acts which were consistent with all the other acts of that woman whom he supposed to be his wife. Besides, the papers which he sought had reference to the past, and had no connection with the affairs of the present. In the intervals of his occupation he used to go about the grounds, visiting every one of those well-known places which were associated with his childhood and boyhood. He sought out his father's grave, and stood musing there with feelings which were made up of sadness, mingled with something like reproach for the fearful mistake which his father had made in the allotment of the son's destiny. True, he had been one of the consenting parties; but when he first gave that consent he was little more than a boy, and not at all capable of comprehending the full meaning of such an engagement. His father had ever since solemnly held him to it, and had appealed to his sense of honor in order to make him faithful. But now the father was dead, the son was a mature man, tried in a thousand scenes of difficulty and danger--one who had learned to think for himself, who had gained his manhood by a life of storms, in which of late there had been crowded countless events, each of which had had their weight in the development of his character. They had left him a calm, strong, resolute man--a man of thought and of action--a graduate of the school of Indian affairs--a school which, in times that tried men's souls, never failed to supply men who were equal to every emergency. [Illustration: "He Sought Out His Father's Grave, And Stood Musing There."] At the very outset he had found out the condition of Mrs. Hart. The sight of his loved nurse, thus prostrated, filled him with grief. The housekeeper who now attended her knew nothing whatever of the cause of her prostration. Lord Chetwynde did not deign to ask any questions of Hilda; but in his anxiety to learn about Mrs. Hart, he sought out the doctor who had attended his father, and from him he learned that Mrs. Hart's illness had been caused by her anxiety about the Earl. The knowledge of this increased, if possible, his own care. He made the closest inquiry as to the way in which she was treated, engaged the doctor to visit her, and doubled the housekeeper's salary on condition that she would be attentive to his beloved nurse. These measures were attended with good results, for under this increased care Mrs. Hart began to show signs of improvement. Whether she would ever again be conscious was yet a question. The doctor considered her mind to be irretrievably affected.