Hugh was himself again in a second, scampering away, kicking aside his flowing white robes with his little pink feet, and bestowing upon his father what was evidently an ecstasy of hugs, accompanied by a perfect storm of hearty “smacks.” Then he gallopaded back, hopped into bed, held out his arms to his mother, and clasped her down to himself in a rapturous embrace, to which she responded with an added tenderness born of a little remorse for the foolish pang he had given her. “But you will let us go in the boat?” he whispered before he released her. She kissed him again as her only answer, and went back into the sitting-room. Her husband looked up at her with some solicitude, and drew up a chair for her at his side. “I’m afraid you have been very much overwrought, Lucy,” he said. “It’s no use saying ‘No.’ I can hear it in your voice. When you went out of the room, I thought you were actually crying. I was quite uneasy till I saw you come in again all right.” “I’m afraid I’m not fit to be your nurse if I frighten my patient,” she said, forcing a smile. “I was very silly. I was not crying. I’m rather afraid I was cross for a minute.” “Cross?” questioned her husband incredulously. “Yes,” she answered. “It vexed me to think how soon Hugh forgot about your going away and thought only of getting a sail in a boat.” Charlie pondered for a second, for the whole thing had escaped him. “I know I was foolish,” she said. “Hughie is only a little child, and cannot realise things. I’m sure he would have begun to cry if you’d said you were going away to-morrow. But when you said ‘not for two or three weeks’ he could put it right out of his head. It’s only childlike, after all.” “But we ought all to be childlike, ought we not, Lucy?” answered Charlie thoughtfully. “And we are, more or less, even the worst of us. All who love know they will have to part; but they don’t go on thinking about it all the years they are together. And days are as long as years to poor little Hughie.” “And then he was so taken up about going in the boat!” said Lucy, with a half-reluctant smile. “Well, and why not?” asked Charlie undauntedly, “We ought to be like that, too—taken up with what is our present business—this is a great business for Hughie—and especially with what we may bring about by our own efforts, as he felt he might by his coaxings. That is our affair—not something that is going to happen some time or other, without any help of ours.” “I know I’m an idiot,” said Lucy humbly; “but so much seemed to come at once! He actually prayed in the same breath for you and for Mrs. May—the strange landlady downstairs,” she explained. And she reminded him of the little incident of the picture plate. Charlie leaned back in his chair and enjoyed a quiet deep laugh.