"Poor child!" she said, fondly, as she caressed him; "what a piece of
vanity is this! A boy of seventeen thinking he knows himself by heart.
Out upon you, Roy, for a conceited coxcomb! Why, we all know you better
than you know yourself; and surely I ought to be the best judge of what
you are."

"No," said Roy, angrily; "you only spoil me."

"Indeed! then I shall go on, and still spoil you in this same way, and
keep you the coward that you are."

"Mother!" he cried, reproachfully; "and with all this terrible
responsibility rising like a dense black cloud before my eyes."

"Yes, Roy, because it is night now, and black night too, in your weary
brain. Ah! my boy, and to how many in this world is it the same black
night. But the hours glide on, the day dawns, and the glorious sun
rises again to pierce the thick cloud of darkness, and brighten the
gloomy places of the earth. Just as hope and youth and your natural
vigour will chase away your black cloud, after the brain has been fallow
for a few hours, and you have had your rest."

"No, no, no," he groaned; "you cannot tell."

"I can tell you, Roy," she said, softly; "and I can tell you, too, that
your father is just such another coward as his son."

"My father!" cried Roy, springing to his feet, flushed and excited. "My
father is the bravest, truest man who ever served the king."

"Amen to that, my boy!" said Lady Royland, proudly; "but do you think,
Roy, that our bravest soldiers, our greatest warriors, have been men
made of iron--cruel, heartless beings, without a thought of the terrible
responsibilities of their positions, without a care for the sufferings
of the men they lead? I believe it never has been so, and never will.
Come, my darling," she continued, clinging to his hands, and drawing
herself to her feet--"come here for a little while. There," she said,
softly, taking the sword from the couch; "your blade is resting for a
while; why should not you? Yes: I wish it; lie right down--for a little
while--before we sup. Ah, that is better!"

Utterly exhausted now, Roy yielded to her loving hands, and sank back
upon the soft couch with a weary sigh; while, as he stretched himself
out, she knelt by his side, and tenderly wiped his brow before passing
her hands over his face, laying his long hair back over the pillow, and
at every touch seeming to bring calm to the weary throbbing brain.

After a few minutes he began to mutter incoherently, and Lady Ro