e he attained that "content," he did not explain even to
Helen. He turned the conversation to the books which Mr. Cardross was
cutting, and many other books, of which he had bought a whole cart-load
for the minister's library. Neither then, nor at any other time, did he
ever refer, except in the most cursory way, to his journey to London.

But Helen noticed that for a long while--weeks, nay, months, he
seemed to avoid more than ever any conversation about himself. He was
slightly irritable and uncertain of mood, and disposed to shut himself
up in the Castle, reading, or seeming to read, from morning till night.
It was not till a passing illness of the minister's in some degree
forced him that he reappeared at the Manse, and fell into his old ways
of coming and going, resuming his studies with Mr. Cardross, and his
walks with Helen--or rather drives, for he had ceased to be carried
in Malcolm's arms.

"I am a man, now, or ought to be," he said once, as a reason for this,
after which no one made any remarks on the subject. Malcolm still
retained his place as the earl's close attendant--as faithful as his
shadow, almost as silent.

But the next year or so made a considerable alteration in Lord
Cairnforth. Not in growth--the little figure never grew any bigger
than that of a boy of ten or twelve; but the childish softness passed
from the face; it sharpened, and hardened, and became that of a young
man. The features developed; and a short black beard, soft and curly,
for it had never known the razor, added character to what, in ordinary
men, would have been considered a very handsome face. It had none of
the painful expression so often seen in deformed persons, but more
resembled those sweet Italian heads of youthful saints--Saint
Sebastian's, for instance--which the old masters were so fond of
painting; and though there was a certain melancholy about it when in
repose, during conversation it brightened up, and was the cheerfullest,
most sunshiny face imaginable.

That is, it ultimately became so; but for a long time after the journey
to London a shadow hung over it, which rarely quite passed away except
in Helen's company. Nobody could be dreary for long beside Helen
Cardross; and either through her companionship, or his own inherent
strength of will, or both combined, the earl gradually recovered from
the bitterness of lost hopes, whatsoever they had been, and became once
more his own natural self, perhaps even