hild, and when his son went on, "Those two
little scamps are getting so troublesome, that they will have to be sent
to school very shortly," he said, almost in a grumbling tone, "They're
always good enough when they're with _me_."

So, in course of time, Mrs. and Miss Melcombe set forth on their
travels; it was their ambition to see exactly the same places and things
that everybody else goes to see, and they made just such observations on
them as everybody else makes.

In the meantime Brandon, not at all aware that several people besides
John Mortimer had noticed that he was out of spirits--Brandon also
prepared to set forth on his travels. He had persuaded several families
to emigrate, and had also persuaded himself that he must go to their
destination himself, that he might look out for situations for them, and
settle them before the winter came on. He was very busy for some days
arranging his affairs; he meant to be away some time. Mr. Mortimer knew
it--perhaps he knew more, for he said not a word by way of dissuasion,
but only seemed rather depressed. The evening, however, before Brandon
was to start, as, at about eight o'clock, he sat talking with his
step-father, the old man lifted up his head and said to him--

"You find me quite as clear in my thoughts and quite as well able to
express them as usual, don't you, St. George?"

"Yes," answered the step-son, feeling, however, a little dismayed, for
the wistful earnestness with which this was said was peculiar.

"If you should ever be asked," continued Daniel Mortimer, "you would be
able to say that you had seen no signs of mental decay in me these last
few months?"

"Yes, I should."

"Don't disturb yourself, my dear fellow. I am as well as usual; better
since my illness than I was for some time before. I quite hope to see
you again; but in case I do not, I have a favour to ask of you."

The step-son assured him with all affection and fervour that he would
attend to his wish, whatever it might be.

"I have never loved anything that breathed as I loved your mother,"
continued the old man, as if still appealing to him, "and you could
hardly have been dearer to me if you had been my own."

"I know it," said Brandon.

"When you were in your own study this morning at the top of the
house----"

"Yes, my liege?"

"I sent Valentine up to you with a desk. You were in that room, were you
not?"

"Oh, yes."

"A small desk, that was once your mother's--it has