, I have a son."

"Who has been here twice to inquire? Most friendly, most friendly, I am
sure. I see, therefore, that you take an interest--Then may we calculate
upon you, Wednesday, as early as will suit you?"

"I will come," said Mrs. Warrender, still hesitating, "if you are quite
sure it is Lady Markland's wish."

While he repeated his assurances, another member of the family appeared
at the door, little Geoff, in a little black dress, which showed his
paleness, his meagre, small person, insignificance, and sickliness more
than ever. He had been there, it would seem, looking on while his uncle
spoke. At this moment he came down deliberately, one step at a time,
till his head was on a level with the carriage window. "It is quite
true," he said. "Mother's in her own room. She's tired, but she wants
you, if you'll come; anyhow, _I_ want you, please, if you'll come. They
say I'm to go, but not mamma: and you know she couldn't be left by
herself; uncle thinks so, and so do I."

The little thing stood shuffling from one foot to another, his hands
in his pockets, his little gray eyes looking everywhere but at the
compassionate face turned to him from the carriage window. There was
a curious ridiculous repetition in the child's attitude of Theo's
assertion of his rights. But Mrs. Warrender's heart was soft to the
child. "I don't think she wants me," she said. "I will do anything at
such a time, but----"

"I want you," said Geoff. He gave her a momentary glance, and she could
see that the little colourless eyes had tears in them. "I shall have to
go and leave her, and who will take care of her? She is to have a thing
like yours upon her head." He was ready to sob, but kept himself in with
a great effort, swallowing the little convulsion of nature. His mother's
widow's cap was more to Geoff than his father's death; at least it was a
visible sign of something tremendous which had happened, more telling
than the mere absence of one who had been so often absent. "Come, Mrs.
Warrender," he said, with a hoarseness of passion in his little voice.
"I can leave her if you are there."

"I will come for your sake, Geoff," she said, holding out her hand, and
with tears in her eyes. He was not big enough to reach it from where he
stood, and the tears in her voice affected the little hero. He dug his
own hands deeper into his pockets, and shuffled off without any reply.
It was the uncle, whose touch she instinctively shrank from, wh