And this woman--this wife of Shuffleton Gibbs--this scheming, unscrupulous woman, was his child! That Paul Somerton should never see her again would be her father’s chief care; his next, a life-long effort to redeem her from herself, to straighten the crooked mind, to win back to the darkened conscience some faint light at least of purity and truth--to combat with the inborn devil, that some essence of the angel might still revive within that human soul. And then the writer grew eloquent upon wonderful cases of conversion from the lowest depths of sin to paths of virtue; the faith of the true Christian broke out in burning words, and here and there expressions of parental hope in the future. But so far as Paul was concerned, he was reminded in firm, but kindly words, that there stood between him and this woman marriage vows plighted to another, and the claims of a long suffering father pledged to a great and holy work of religious duty. Some day, ere the deep shadows of the future closed upon them all for ever, and there was an end of passion and repentance, they might meet again, but for the present their paths in the great world lay in different directions. Wearied and unhappy, Lieutenant Somerton lay down on his bed that night when he received this letter. The next morning he woke with a sense of pain and weakness. For days after this he was delirious. His constant attendant during this time was his gentle sister Phœbe, who came to town with her father on a special summons from the young officer’s medical attendant. Though in point of time we anticipate slightly some of the events of the next few chapters, we think it well to finish Paul’s “first love” adventure in this place. We take the liberty, therefore, to say that when he had sufficiently recovered his father took him down into Lincolnshire, and in course of time, amidst the bracing air of wolds and fens, health and strength came back to him. What a quiet, dreary time it was these few months, in the heart of the great agricultural district! Sluggish rivers, with sedgy banks; long hard roads; low trim hedges; sleek, short-horned cattle; big hay-ricks and straw stacks--how familiar they became! Then there was an occasional ride to the hounds, visits to the local markets, unsophisticated evening parties, and all the other rural pleasures of the place.