sad and
sombre, almost as he was. On the next day, early in the morning, the
younger lad returned to his college, and Lord Silverbridge went up to
London, where he was supposed to have his home.

"Perhaps you would not mind reading these letters," the Duke said to
Mrs. Finn, when she again went to him, in compliance with a message
from him asking for her presence. Then she sat down and read two
letters, one from Lady Cantrip, and the other from a Mrs. Jeffrey
Palliser, each of which contained an invitation for his daughter,
and expressed a hope that Lady Mary would not be unwilling to spend
some time with the writer. Lady Cantrip's letter was long, and went
minutely into circumstances. If Lady Mary would come to her, she
would abstain from having other company in the house till her young
friend's spirits should have somewhat recovered themselves. Nothing
could be more kind, or proposed in a sweeter fashion. There had,
however, been present to the Duke's mind as he read it a feeling that
a proposition to a bereaved husband to relieve him of the society
of an only daughter, was not one which would usually be made to
a father. In such a position a child's company would probably
be his best solace. But he knew,--at this moment he painfully
remembered,--that he was not as are other men. He acknowledged the
truth of this, but he was not the less grieved and irritated by the
reminder. The letter from Mrs. Jeffrey Palliser was to the same
effect, but was much shorter. If it would suit Mary to come to them
for a month or six weeks at their place in Gloucestershire, they
would both be delighted.

"I should not choose her to go there," said the Duke, as Mrs. Finn
refolded the latter letter. "My cousin's wife is a very good woman,
but Mary would not be happy with her."

"Lady Cantrip is an excellent friend for her."

"Excellent. I know no one whom I esteem more than Lady Cantrip."

"Would you wish her to go there, Duke?"

There came a wistful piteous look over the father's face. Why should
he be treated as no other father would be treated? Why should it
be supposed that he would desire to send his girl away from him?
But yet he felt that it would be better that she should go. It was
his present purpose to remain at Matching through a portion of the
summer. What could he do to make a girl happy? What comfort would
there be in his companionship?

"I suppose she ought to go somewhere," he said.

"I had not thought of it," s