"Try to give me a few minutes to-day or to-morrow, so I can tell you what I have not time to write. "Hoping to see you very soon, I remain, "Your sincere friend, "MARIE BASTIEN." The letter enclosed read as follows: "MONSIEUR:--I accept your generous offer with profound gratitude. My son's age and mental condition, the anxiety I feel concerning his future are my only claims upon your interest, yet I believe that in your eyes these claims are sacred. "Increase my obligations by hastening the date of your arrival here as much as possible. Your predictions in relation to my unfortunate child are more than verified. "My only hope is in you, monsieur, and every hour and minute adds to my anxiety. I am terrified at the thought of what may occur at any moment in spite of my solicitude and untiring vigilance. It is needless to say that I await your assistance with the utmost impatience. "May Heaven bless you, for the compassion you have shown to a mother who lives only in her son. "MARIE BASTIEN." CHAPTER XIX. During the brief time which preceded Henri David's arrival the condition of physical weakness which followed Frederick's attack of nervous fever prevented him from leaving the house, especially as the weather was very unpleasant, an unusually early snow having covered the ground, while a heavy fog obscured the atmosphere. Since the scene in the forest there had been no explanation between the mother and son, nor even any allusion to the distressing incident. Remembering the offensive manner in which her son had treated M. David on Saint Hubert's Day, Madame Bastien felt no little anxiety with regard to the future relations between her son and his new tutor, whose intended coming was as yet a secret to Frederick. At last came a note from Doctor Dufour, enclosing the following: "I am travelling by post to make a few hours, my dear Pierre, so I shall arrive very soon after you receive these few lines, and we will go together to Madame Bastien's house." M. David's arrival being only a matter of a few hours, Marie could defer the revelation of her plans no longer, so she went to the study in search of him. She found him seated at a table, apparently engaged in translating a French exercise into English. "Lay aside your books a moment, Frederick, and come and sit down by me. There is something I wish to say to you." Frederick took a seat beside his mother on a sofa near the fireplace, and his mother, taking her son's hands in hers, said to him, with the tenderest solicitude: "How cold your hands are, my son. Your writing-table is too far from the fire. You ought to move your table to this part of the room." "I will, mother, if you wish it." "I wish you would do so presently, but first we must have a little talk." "About what?" "About a very important matter, my son." "I am listening."