y a tower but something like a house, of
bricks--and now his enthusiastic teacher is attempting to teach him the
first rudiments of speech, in this wonderful modern way--lip-reading and
the like. He has been under training for about six weeks, and certainly
the results are most promising. I believe his mother protested to Lord
Buntingford that he had not been neglected. Nobody can believe her, who
sees now what has been done. Apparently a brain-surgeon in Naples was
consulted as to the possibility of an operation. But when that was
dropped, nothing else was ever tried, no training was attempted, and the
child would have fared very badly, if it had not been for the old
_bonne_--Zelie--who was and is devoted to him. His mother was ashamed of
him, and came positively to hate the sight of him.

"But the tragic thing is that as his mind develops, his body seems to
weaken. Food, special exercise, massage--poor Lord Buntingford has been
trying everything--but with small result. It is pitiful to see him
watching the child, and hanging on the doctors. 'Shall we stop all the
teaching?' he said to John the other day in despair--'my first object is
that he should _live_,' But it would be cruel to stop the teaching now.
The child would not allow it. He himself has caught the passion of it.
He seems to me to live in a fever of excitement and joy, as one step
follows another, and the door opens a little wider for his poor prisoned
soul. He adores his father, and will sit beside him, stroking his silky
beard, with his tiny fingers, and looking at him with his large pathetic
eyes ... They have taken him to Beechmark, as you know, and given him a
set of rooms, where he and his wonderful little teacher, Miss
Denison--trained in the Seguin method, they say--and the old _bonne_
Zelie live. The nurse has gone.

"I am so sorry for Lady Cynthia--she seems to miss him so. Of course
she goes over to Beechmark a good deal, but it is not the same as
having him under her own roof. And she was so good to him! She looks
tired of late, and rather depressed. I wonder if her dragoon of a
sister has been worrying her. Of course Lady Georgina is enchanted to
have got rid of Arthur.

"I am very glad to hear Lord Buntingford is going to Wales. Miss Pitstone
has been evidently a great deal on his mind. He said to John the other
day that he had arranged everything at Beechmark so that, when you and
she came back, he did not think you would find Arthur in th