laugh lightly, and hum an opera-air as he rode off, sitting
his horse with the easy seat of a thorough horseman. He would never set
up a carriage as long as he could ride like that. I watched him out of
sight, and then went in to seek my poor mother.

CHAPTER THE NINTH.

A CLEW TO THE SECRET.

She was lying on the sofa in the breakfast-room, with the Venetian
blinds down to darken the morning sunshine. Her eyes wore closed, though
she held in her hands the prayer-hook, from which she had been reading
as usual the Psalms for the day. I had time to take note of the extreme
fragility of her appearance, which, doubtless I noticed the more plainly
for my short absence. Her hands were very thin, and her cheeks hollow. A
few silver threads were growing among her brown hair, and a line or two
between her eyebrows were becoming deeper. But while I was looking at
her, though I made no sort of sound or movement, she seemed to feel that
I was there; and after looking up she started from her sofa, and flung
her arms about me, pressing closer and closer to me.

"O Martin, my boy! my darling!" she sobbed, "thank God you are come back
safe! Oh, I have been very rebellious, very unbelieving. I ought to have
known that you would be safe. Oh, I am thankful!"

"So am I, mother," I said, kissing her, "and very hungry into the
bargain."

I knew that would check her hysterical excitement. She looked up at me
with smiles and tears on her face; but the smiles won the day.

"That is so like you, Martin," she said; "I believe your ghost would say
those very words. You are always hungry when you come home. Well, my
boy shall have the best breakfast in Guernsey. Sit down, then, and let
me wait upon you."

That was just what pleased her most whenever I came in from some ride
into the country. She was a woman with fondling, caressing little ways,
such as Julia could no more perform gracefully than an elephant could
waltz. My mother enjoyed fetching my slippers, and warming them herself
by the fire, and carrying away my boots when I took them off. No servant
was permitted to do any of these little offices for me--that is, when my
father was out of the way. If he was there, my mother sat still, and
left me to wait on myself, or ring for a servant, Never in my
recollection had she done any thing of the kind for my father. Had she
watched and waited upon him thus in the early days of their married
life, until some neglect or unfaithfulne