im. Lady Adela urged him
at last to go. She thought that Mary lived in a state of effort for his
sake, and that there was a certain yearning and yet dread in the minds of
both for these further details, so that the visit had better be over.

Thus it was about six weeks after Herbert's departure that Mrs. Morton
received a note to tell her that her brother-in-law would arrive the next
evening. It was terrible news to Ida, and if there had been time she
would have arranged to be absent elsewhere; but as it was she had no
power to escape, and had to spend her time in assisting in all the
elaborate preparations which her mother thought due to the Baron--a very
different personage in her eyes from the actual Frank.

He did not come till late in the day, and then Mrs. Morton received him
with a very genuine gush of tears, and anxious inquiries. He was thin,
and looked much older; his hair was grayer, and had retreated from his
brow, and there was a bent, worn, dejected air about the whole man,
which, as Mrs. Morton said, made her ready to cry whenever she looked at
him; but he was quite composed in manner and tone, so as to repress her
agitation, and confirm Ida's inexperienced judgment in the idea that
Michael was none of his. He was surprised and concerned at Herbert's
absence, which was beginning to make his mother uneasy, and he promised
to write to some of the boy's friends to inquire about him. To put off
the evil day, Ida had suggested asking Mr. Deyncourt to meet him, but
that gentleman could not come, and dinner went off in stiff efforts at
conversation, for just now all the power thereof, that Lord Northmoor had
ever acquired, seemed to have forsaken him.

Afterwards, in the August twilight, he begged to hear all. Ida withdrew,
glad not to submit to the ordeal, while her mother observed, 'Poor, dear
Ida! She was so fond of her dear little cousin, she cannot bear to hear
him mentioned! She has never been well since!'

Then, with copious floods of tears, and all in perfect good faith, she
related the history of the loss, as she knew it, with--on his leading
questions--a full account of all the child's pretty ways during his stay,
and how he had never failed to say his prayer about making papa better,
and how he had made friends with Mr. Deyncourt, in spite of having
pronounced his church like a big tin box all up in frills; and how he had
admired the crabs, and run after the waves, and had been devoted to t