she
has thrown me over, and taken my child away from me. And, now, Sydney's
taken away from me next. I'm alone. Do you hear that? Alone! Take the
poker there out of the fireplace. Give me back Sydney, or knock out
my brains. I haven't courage enough to do it for myself. Oh, why did I
engage that governess! I was so happy, Randal, with Catherine and little
Kitty."

He laid his head wearily on the back of his chair. Randal offered him
more wine; he refused it.

"I'm afraid," he said. "Wine maddens me if I take too much of it.
You have heard of men forgetting their sorrows in drink. I tried it
yesterday; it set my brains on fire; I'm feeling that glass I took just
now. No! I'm not faint. It eases my head when I rest like this. Shake
hands, Randal; we have never had any unfriendly words; we mustn't begin
now. There's something perverse about me. I didn't know how fond I was
of Sydney till I lost her; I didn't know how fond I was of my wife till
I left her." He paused, and put his hand to his fevered head. Was his
mind wandering into some other train of thought? He astonished his
brother by a new entreaty--the last imaginable entreaty that Randal
expected to hear. "Dear old fellow, I want you to do me a favor. Tell me
where my wife is living now?"

"Surely," Randal answered, "you know that she is no longer your wife?"

"Never mind that! I have something to say to her."

"You can't do it."

"Can _you_ do it? Will you give her a message?"

"Let me hear what it is first."

Herbert lifted his head, and laid his hand earnestly on his brother's
arm. When he said his next words he was almost like his old self again.

"Say that I'm lonely, say that I'm dying for want of a little
comfort--ask her to let me see Kitty."

His tone touched Randal to the quick. "I feel for you, Herbert,"
he said, warmly. "She shall have your message; all that I can do to
persuade her shall be done."

"As soon as possible?"

"Yes--as soon as possible."

"And you won't forget? No, no; of course you won't forget." He tried
to rise, and fell back again into his chair. "Let me rest a little," he
pleaded, "if I'm not in the way. I'm not fit company for you, I know;
I'll go when you tell me."

Randal refused to let him go at all. "You will stay here with me; and if
I happen to be away, there will be somebody in the house, who is
almost as fond of you as I am." He mentioned the name of one of the old
servants at Mount Morven, who had attached