"20th August.--We have been two months at our home in Scotland,
and I see no change in George for the better. He is as far as
ever, I fear, from being reconciled to his separation from that
unhappy woman. Nothing will induce him to confess it himself. He
declares that his quiet life here with me is all that he desires.
But I know better! I have been into his bedroom late at night. I
have heard him talking of her in his sleep, and I have seen the
tears on his eyelids. My poor boy! What thousands of charming
women there are who would ask nothing better than to be his wife!
And the one woman whom he can never marry is the only woman whom
he loves!

"25th.--A long conversation about George with Mr. MacGlue. I have
never liked this Scotch doctor since he encouraged my son to keep
the fatal appointment at Saint Anthony's Well. But he seems to be
a clever man in his profession--and I think, in his way, he means
kindly toward George. His advice was given as coarsely as usual,
and very positively at the same time. 'Nothing will cure your
son, madam, of his amatory passion for that half-drowned lady of
his but change--and another lady. Send him away by himself this
time; and let him feel the want of some kind creature to look
after him. And when he meets with that kind creature (they are as
plenty as fish in the sea), never trouble your head about it if
there's a flaw in her character. I have got a cracked tea-cup
which has served me for twenty years. Marry him, ma'am, to the
new one with the utmost speed and impetuosity which the law will
permit.' I hate Mr. MacGlue's opinions--so coarse and so
hard-hearted!--but I sadly fear that I must part with my son for
a little while, for his own sake.

"26th.--Where is George to go? I have been thinking of it all
through the night, and I cannot arrive at a conclusion. It is so
difficult to reconcile myself to letting him go away alone.

"29th.--I have always believed in special providences; and I am
now confirmed in my belief. This morning has brought with it a
note from our good friend and neighbor at Belhelvie. Sir James is
one of the commissioners for the Northern Lights. He is going in
a Government vessel to inspect the lighthouses on the North of
Scotland, and on the Orkney and Shetland Islands--and, having
noticed how worn and ill my poor boy looks, he most kindly
invites George to be his guest on the voyage. They will not be
absent for more than two months; and the sea (as Sir James
reminds me) did wonders for George's health when he returned from
India. I could wish for no better opportunity than this of trying
what change of air and scene will do for him. However painfully I
may feel the separation myself, I shall put a cheerful face on
it; and I shall urge George to accept the invitation.

"30th.--I have said all I could; but he still refuses to leave
me. I am a miserable, selfish creature. I felt so glad when he
said No.

"31st.--Another wakeful night. George must positively send his
answer to Sir James to-day. I am determined to do my duty toward
my son--he looks so dreadfully pale and ill this morning!
Besides, if something is not done to rouse him, how do I know
that he may not end in going back to Mrs. Van Brandt after all?
From every point of view, I feel bound to insist on his accepting
Sir James's invitation. I have only to be firm, and the thing is
done. He has never yet disobeyed me, poor fellow. He will not
disobey me now.

"2d September.--He has gone! Entirely to please me--entirely
against his own wishes. Oh, how is it that such a good son cannot
get a good wife! He would make any woman happy. I wonder whether
I have done right in sending him away? The wind is moaning in the
fir plantation at the back of the house. Is there a storm at sea?
I forgot to ask Sir James how big the vessel was. The 'Guide to
Scotland' says the coast is rugged; and there is a wild sea
between the north shore and the Orkney Islands. I almost regret
having insisted so strongly--how foolish I am! We are all in the
hands of God. May God bless and prosper my good son!

"10th.--Very uneasy. No letter from George. Ah, how full of
trouble this life is! and how strange that we should cling to it
as we do!

"15th.--A letter from George! They have done with the north coast
and they have crossed the wild sea to the Orkneys. Wonderful
weather has favored them so far; and George is in better health
and spirits. Ah! how much happiness there is in life if we only
have the patience to wait for it.

"2d October.--Another letter. They are safe in the harbor of
Lerwick, the chief port in the Shetland Islands. The weather has
not latterly been at all favorable. But the amendment in George's
health remains. He writes most gratefully of Sir James's
unremitting kindness to him. I am so happy, I declare I could
kiss Sir James--though he _is_ a great man, and a Commissioner
for Northern Lights! In three weeks more (wind and weather
permitting) they hope to get back. Never mind my lonely life
here, if I can only see George happy and well again! He tells me
they have passed a great deal of their time on shore; but not a
word does he say about meeting any ladies. Perhaps they are
scarce in those wild regions? I have heard of Shetland shawls and
Shetland ponies. Are there any Shetland ladies, I wonder?"

CHAPTER XVII.



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