“That’s just what they would like best of all,” said Mrs. Brown. “Archie, puir laddie, would just give his little finger for a look of London. I’ve always said no, for it’s a place full of temptations. But to be with his own father makes a great difference.” “And me,” said Marion. “Ah, papa,” she added, studying his countenance, “I want to see London; but far more, I want to see mamma.” “Don’t say----!” said Rowland, and then stopped. He felt a sort of pang of indignation to think of this girl calling Evelyn by that name. This girl--his own girl--his child! He stopped short with a hard drawn breath of vexation. Of course she must say mamma if she would--or mother, a more sacred title. And it would be necessary for Evelyn to submit to it--Evelyn would desire it. Between these two certainties he felt himself caught as in a vice. “I am sorry,” he said, “that I can’t take you with me to London--it is out of my power.” “Dear, man,” said Mrs. Brown, “you that just have your pockets full of money, how can it be out of your power? It’s a journey that costs dear, and living in a hotel is just ruination; but you’re no one to consider that. You mauna say it’s out of your power.” “Money is not everything,” said Rowland shortly. “Eh no--far be it from me to say it is; but in the matter of taking your two children upon a veesit, what else is there to think o’? Na, na, there are plenty things it canna buy. It can neither bring ease o’ body nor peace o’ mind; but railroad tickets to London--Hoot! it’s siller alone that’s wanted--and you that has just your pockets full!” “It is out of the question,” said Rowland, and then he stopped suddenly once more, for he had encountered the wistful look in Archie’s eyes--the eyes that were his mother’s. It cost him an effort to repeat his negative in the face of that silent appeal. “I cannot do it,” he said hastily. “Another time--but not now. However, if you would like to come with me and see the house--” This proposal was accepted _faute de mieux_, and he set off next morning accompanied by the two young people, who by this time had become a little accustomed to him, and had learned to adapt themselves a little to his “ways.” Marion at least had learned to note when he was worried and put out, and though she was not yet at all aware what points in her conduct disturbed him, or that it was her conduct that disturbed him, her quick perception had already noticed that something did from time to time derange his equanimity, and that it was his children who were the cause.