"I'll go," she said, steadily, "the day after to-morrow. And I'll not go to Fortress Monroe. I'll go into the mountains of Virginia,--to a farm-house I know of, where one has forests, and silence, and nature--and nothing else. I'll take the children, and live out-of-doors with them, and read to them, and talk to them, and sew for them when I want anything to do. I always was happy and natural when I was sewing and doing things for them. I like it. Living in that simple, natural way, and having the children with me, will rest and cure me if anything will on earth; the children always--the children"-- She stopped and sat perfectly still; her voice had broken, and she had turned her face a little away. Arbuthnot got up. He stood a moment, as he always did before going, but he did not look directly at her, though he did not seem to avoid her in his glance. "It is the best thing you can do," he said,--"the very best thing. You will be thoroughly rested when you come home, and that is what you need. I will go now; I hear Richard, and I want to speak to him alone." And by the time the door opened and Richard stood on the threshold, he had reached him and turned him around, throwing his arm boyishly over his shoulder. "You are just in time," he said. "Take me into the museum, or the library. I want to have a confidential chat with you." And they went out together. CHAPTER XIII. The following day Richard presented himself to Tredennis in the morning, looking a little disturbed, and scarcely in such excellent spirits as usual. "Bertha and the children are going away to-morrow," he said. "And if you have no other engagement you are to come and dine with us this evening and say good-by." "I have no other engagement," Tredennis answered. "I shall be glad to come. They are really going to Fortress Monroe to-morrow?" Richard threw himself into a chair with a rather discontented air. "They are not going to Fortress Monroe at all," he said. "They are going to bury themselves in the mountains of Virginia. It is a queer fancy of Bertha's. I think she is making a mistake. She won't like it, really, when she tries it." "If she needs rest," said Tredennis, "certainly the mountains of Virginia"-- "The mountains of Virginia," interrupted Richard, "were not made for Bertha. She will tire of them in a week. I wish she would not go!" he said, with the faintest possible touch of petulance. "You will miss her very much, of course," said Tredennis. "Oh, yes, I shall miss her. I always miss her--and I shall miss her specially just now." "Just now?" said Tredennis. "Oh," said Richard, straightening himself somewhat and clearing his slightly knitted brow, "I was only thinking of two or three plans which had half-formed themselves in my mind. I was looking at it from a selfish point of view, which I had no right to do. I suppose things might wait--until she comes back." "Are you going with her?" said Tredennis.