“Yes, if possible. We must go away from here for awhile, you know, dear mother. You remember it was Camille’s money with which we improved Verelands. Unless she decides to live here, the place must be rented out until sufficient money is realized to repay the debt. Dearest little mother, you know we are poor again, now. I shall have to work for us both.” “There is my little income. It is more than enough for me. All I can spare shall go to help the Hintons if they take Sweetheart,” she said, but her voice was hoarse with tears. How could she leave the dear old home, and how could her son sit there and talk of it with that calm, white face? It was cruel! He might have borne with Camille, if only for his mother’s sake. Hard thoughts of her son came to her for the first time in her life, but she did not utter a single reproach. Perhaps it would all come right soon, and she could come back to Verelands. “You will want to answer your wife’s letter,” she said, looking around for it; then she saw the fragments of the pink envelope strewing the floor. “Naughty Little Sweetheart, you have cut it up with your toy scissors!” she cried. Sweetheart looked solemn and rueful over the detection of the mischief she had wrought. CHAPTER XXIII. “It does not matter in the least, mother. I am glad Sweetheart destroyed the infamous thing. I only wish she could blot it out from my mind, too,” Norman said, impatiently. He rose, shook himself--for he had been sitting still until he was cramped and weary--and continued: “I will not write to her, mother. I will ask you to deliver a message to her. Say that I accept her terms--separation instead of divorce. It will amount to the same thing in the end,” curtly. “For the rest, she has her choice--to live at Verelands or rent it out. You and I will be gone away--that is”--bitterly--“if you elect to follow the fortunes of your erring son.” “I shall go with you, dear. You are all I have, and I can not part with you. I will carry your message to Camille; yet, poor soul, I pity her, and I fear you are making a great mistake, my son,” she ventured. But he went without a word. When she saw Camille’s tears--when she heard her passionate protestations of innocence, her wild prayers for her husband’s pardon--Mrs. de Vere could not help but pity the passionate, undisciplined creature. She spoke only the kindest words to her; she promised her that in time she would win her husband’s heart back to her, if it had not turned to ice. “Only be prudent and good, Camille. Shun all other men and live only for your husband, and all will come right,” she advised, in her ignorance of Norman’s true reasons. Camille clung to her, protesting passionate gratitude. Indeed, she was eager to enlist her mother-in-law’s influence on her side.