'Tell me, child, all your trouble. Am I not your best and most unselfish friend?' 'Oh yes, mother. But what I have to tell you will shock and pain you even more than anything I have yet told you. When I left Stratford I had strong religious feelings.' 'Yes, my son.' 'Well, mother, would you not be greatly shocked if I told you I felt, since I left this, a strong tendency to join--abandon my creed for some other?' 'Why do you ask so absurd a question? Of course I should be shocked and grieved beyond measure.' 'It is worse then even that. I have lost all I had, and have got nothing back in return.' 'My son, my son, this strange woman has stolen away your brain.' 'No, mother, it is still more desperate. She has stolen my heart, and God has taken away my reason and wholesomeness, and I wish it would please God to take away my life too.' 'My son!' She rose and threw her arms round his neck. 'My son, my darling son! My child, my child! How can you say such things to me, your mother?' 'Mother, for all sakes, it would be well if I died.' CHAPTER IV. A NERVOUS SUITOR. It was impossible for George's mother to mistake him. She looked at his face, and found it pale and careworn and full of definite sorrow. The tones of his voice left her no choice but to believe he really was in deep, in desperate mental and spiritual trouble. He sat back in his chair and looked vacantly at the small table lying between them. She took up her gold-rimmed spectacles and softly rapped the volume of Tillotson with them. Mother and son were both silent for a long time. She broke the silence. 'I have forgotten the name of this gentleman who wishes to see me about Kate. What is his name?' 'Nevill. William Nevill,' answered Osborne, brightening up and looking at his mother with more animation than he had yet shown. 'When does he wish to see me?' 'Whenever you please. He would call at any time that may be convenient to you.' 'This evening?' 'Yes. I am certain he would call this evening, if you give him leave.' 'Then bring him to me this evening. As soon as you have introduced us you can leave us for an hour, and then come back for your friend.' From this George took his dismissal, and went back to The Falcon, where he found Nevill nervously fiddling with a daily paper. 'Well,' asked the parishioner of Stepney eagerly, 'what luck?' 'I can't tell. At first, of course, she seemed shocked--my own affair being so fresh--I mean that she was a bit taken aback, the thing coming so suddenly on her. Kate, you know, is a great favourite--always has been.' Nevill looked grave. 'No wonder Kate has been a great favourite at home; but she's a great favourite with me too, Osborne. I hope there will be no final objection on your mother's side. I am prepared for anything short of final objection.' 'I don't fear that. My mother is very staid and calm, Nevill.'