nsole her by every kind and
tender word he could utter.

Lord Earle did not know that in his wife's heart there was a hope that
in time he would relent. It was hard to lose her brave boy for a few
months or even years; but he would return, his father must forgive him,
her sorrow would be but for a time. But Lord Earle, inflexible and
unflinching, knew that he should never in life see his son again.

No one knew what Lord Earle suffered; as Valentine Charteris said, he
was too proud for scenes. He dined with Lady Charteris and her
daughter, excusing his wife, and never naming his son. After dinner he
shut himself in his own room, and suffered his agony along.

* * * * *

Earlescourt was full of bustle and activity. The young heir was
leaving suddenly; boxes and trunks had to be packed. He did not say
where he was going; indeed those who helped him said afterward that his
face was fixed and pale, and that he moved about like one in a dream.

Everything was arranged for Ronald's departure by the night mail from
Greenfield, the nearest station to Earlescourt. He took with him
neither horses nor servants; even his valet, Morton, was left behind.
"My lady" was ill, and shut up in her room all day.

Valentine Charteris sat alone in the drawing room when Ronald came in
to bid her farewell. She was amazed at the unhappy termination of the
interview. She would have gone instantly to Lord Earle, but Ronald
told her it was useless--no prayers, no pleadings could change his
determination.

As Ronald stood here, looking into Valentine's beautiful face, he
remembered his mother's words, that she cared for him as she cared for
no other. Could it be possible that this magnificent girl, with her
serene, queenly dignity, loved him? She looked distressed by his
sorrow. When he spoke of his mother, and she saw the quivering lips he
vainly tried to still, tears filled her eyes.

"Where shall you go," she asked, "and what shall you do?"

"I shall go to my wife at once," he replied, "and take her abroad. Do
not look so pained and grieved for me, Miss Charteris I must do the
best I can. If my income will not support me, I must work; a few
months' study will make me a tolerable artist. Do not forget my mother,
Valentine, and bid me 'Godspeed.'"

Her heart yearned for him--so young, so simple, so brave. She longed
to tell him how much she admired him--how she wanted to help him, and
would be his