CHAPTER LXXII.

ANXIETIES.

"And thou must sail upon this sea a long

Eventful voyage. The wise may suffer wreck,

The foolish must."

"Our pains are real things, and all

WARE.

Our pleasures but fantastical,

Diseases of their own accord ;

But cares come difficult and hard."

BUTLER.

IN proportion as Mrs. Seymour's strength returned, so did the anxiety of her friends increase to discover whether she retained any recollection of the painful circumstance which had been the primary cause of her illness.

But though they continued to scrutinise her every word, look, and action, with the deepest attention, they found it impossible to decide the question.

She made no allusion to the past; and when Dr. Leslie cautiously ventured on one or two occasions to introduce the subject, she said nothing which could lead him to suppose that she was in the least degree interested in his remarks.

A fortnight wore away before it was considered safe for her to have an interview with Mr. Seymour; and during the whole of that time she did not once inquire for him, or express any surprise at his non-appearance.

One afternoon, however, it was the first day she had been permitted to go beyond her own apartments, she was reclining on a couch in an adjoining sitting-room, with Willson as her only attendant, when, turning suddenly towards her, she asked abruptly,"Where is my husband?"

"He's downstairs, I believe," replied the old woman, starting visibly.

"I should like to see him," observed the invalid, and her voice was perfectly calm and composed.

"Would you?" questioned Willson, stealing an anxious halffrightened glance at her.

"Perhaps, if you ring for Juliet," continued her mistress, "she will tell him what I say.'

"Are you sure you are strong enough?" said Willson, with an agitation of manner which she tried to conceal.

"Strong enough," repeated Mrs. Seymour, and she gave a pleasant little laugh; "there's no great exertion

"Well, perhaps not," responded Willson, somewhat relieved; will go and see about it."

"I

As she quietly closed the door after her, she murmured to herself, "Sooner or later it must, of course, be done; I only wish we could put it off until the doctor comes.'

Almost before the wish was uttered she heard Dr. Leslie's step approaching the ante-room; and, having detained him there for a moment, she breathlessly communicated to him Mrs. Seymour's desire.

"It is certainly a risk," he said, gravely shaking his head, "a great risk. Nevertheless she must be obeyed. I think," he added, after an instant's consideration, "it will be well for you to return to your mistress at once. I will fetch Mr. Seymour, and, while the interview lasts, remain here, so as to be at hand in case of any distressing emergency. Meantime, be sure and keep your eye upon Mrs. Seymour's face, and if the sight of her husband, or anything he may happen to say, appears to have the effect of discomposing or annoying her, see that he instantly leaves her."

Willson nodded assent, and, re-entering the sitting-room, took up her former station opposite Mrs. Seymour's sofa.

"Is he coming?" inquired the lady, regarding her with a smile. "I expect so,' ," she answered, trying to speak lightly, though she really felt excessively uneasy; "I have sent him a message." "Ah! then he will soon be here," was the satisfied response; and neither of them spoke again until Mr. Seymour made his appearance.

He looked ten years older than when Mrs. Seymour had last seen him. His face had a worn and weary expression; deep lines of care were traced on his brow, his dark hair was sprinkled with silver, and his figure, once so tall, erect, and commanding, now seemed painfully bent and drooping.

A strangely altered man he appeared, as he came up to his wife's sofa, and fixed his eyes with wistful earnestness upon her, as if expecting, and yet dreading to hear her speak.

He stood like one who knows what is coming, and is determined to bear it without flinching; like one who sees the approach of the storm, and feels that, be the consequences what they may, he must brave it.

"Yes," this was the language of his face, "I deserve reproach; and though my heart may break in the struggle, I will not shrink from it."

"You asked to see me," he said at length, and his voice was very low and tender.

"Yes," answered the lady, raising herself; "it seems a long time since

Mr. Seymour's eyes filled with tears at this reception, so different from what he had anticipated.

66

My darling!" he said, bending over her before she could finish her sentence, and kissing her pale cheeks again and again; "you do not know how often I have wanted to come, how I have longed to speak to you. I have seen you," he added, "several times when you were sleeping; but Dr. Leslie was afraid that talking would excite you." "A very unnecessary fear," she said, with her old placid smile; "I am nearly well now."

"God be thanked!" ejaculated her husband, taking one of her thin hands, and stroking it with a fond caressing movement.

And greatly to Willson's surprise, instead of shrinking from him, she remained quite passive; even allowing him to throw his arm around her, for the purpose of lifting her head from the cushions, and placing it upon his own shoulder.

"I have been thinking of Herbert, too," observed Mrs. Seymour, after a brief interval of silence.

Mr. Seymour gave a sort of gasp. Every particle of colour fled from his face, and he bit his lips to prevent himself from making an exclamation of dismay.

It was terrible for him to be reminded of his son just then! He had that same morning received answers to some letters of searching inquiry which he had written respecting the loss of the Burdwan; but these answers, alas! were so sadly significant, so ominously confirmative of all he had previously heard and feared, that his old feelings revived with painful intensity; the unclosed wound was torn rudely open, and his poor bleeding heart refused to be comforted.

"Yes," pursued Mrs. Seymour, happily unconscious of the storm which was agitating her husband, "I cannot imagine how it is that Herbert does not come near me. Where is he, my dear?"

More torture still! Had Mr. Seymour's life been the forfeit, he could not have uttered a word. His white face grew fixed and rigid, under the effort he made to restrain his emotion, and the arm with which he had been supporting his wife fell over the side of the sofa, stiff and motionless, just as if paralyzed.

Willson gazed at her mistress in mingled doubt and apprehension. The very nature of the question encouraged her to hope that she had, at least for the time, ceased to remember what had occurred; but the fear lest the unwelcome truth should again force itself upon the poor lady's mind, made her exceedingly anxious to change the current of her thoughts.

Seeing that Mr. Seymour was unable to speak, she came hurriedly forward, and tried to call the invalid's attention to something else; but without paying the slightest heed to her words, Mrs. Seymour went on in a quick, abrupt voice,

66

Oh, I remember it all now! How stupid of me to forget!" "Ah! it's coming at last!" thought Mr. Seymour, pressing his lips more tightly together, whilst Willson almost groaned with disappointment.

"Yes, I remember," repeated the lady, gently and musingly; "of course he is not yet aware that I have been ill."

"Do you feel cold, ma'am?" insinuated Willson, taking up a heavy shawl from one of the chairs.

But Mrs. Seymour was too much interested in her subject to regard her.

"It will be quite a treat to see him again," she proceeded with animation; "don't you think so, my dear?"

Still Mr. Seymour made no answer, though he cast a hopeless and strangely bewildered look at Willson, whose surprise and perplexity increased every moment.

The lady's next words embarrassed them yet more :

"What day do you expect him home?"

"What day?" huskily faltered Mr. Seymour.

"Soon,

suppose," said his wife, apparently answering her own

question; "this is September, is it not?"

Mr. Seymour assented; and she continued, speaking as much to herself as him,

"I believe the end of August was the time fixed for their return; but when one is travelling it is not always easy to keep to the first

arrangement. If you will bring me the little blue desk that stands. on my dressing-room table, Willson, I will see what Herbert says about it in his last letter."

Until the request was repeated Willson stood irresolute.

But for the perfect clearness and intelligence with which her mistress conversed on every other subject, she might have suspected the soundness of her mind. As it was, she scarcely knew what to think; and when at length she reluctantly left the room, in order to get the desk, she could not help imparting her fears to Dr. Leslie, and asking his advice.

With Mr. Seymour it was different. This unlooked-for allusion to Herbert's return had carried his thoughts back to that memorable evening, years ago, when they had welcomed him to his home with such acclamations of joy, little dreaming, as they so fondly gazed into his handsome and intelligent countenance, lighted up with an expression of intense and affectionate pleasure, of the momentous change which a few short months had effected in his whole character; and as the unhappy father contrasted the past with the present, and then ventured to direct one shuddering glance at the unknown future, a cold chill ran through his frame, and his heart seemed for the moment turned to stone.

But presently he roused himself, and took a rapid survey of his position.

It was evident, he thought, from Mrs. Seymour's loving reception of himself, and also from the way in which she had introduced Herbert's name, that the most painful part of her life was forgottenif not altogether, yet for the present-and he felt that in the event of his expectations being in this respect fulfilled, he could not be too thankful.

Still, though he would thus be spared her reproaches, besides having the satisfaction of knowing that she had ceased to suffer, the remembrance of the many difficulties to be encountered in trying to keep her in blissful ignorance of her son's death was enough to fill him with doubt and dismay. The very date of the letters she was about to read, might undeceive her in an instant; or if that happily escaped her, there was a thousand other ways by which her eyes might be opened to the melancholy truth-a thousand reminiscences which might at any moment revisit her enfeebled mind, and have the effect of rendering her more hopelessly miserable than she had yet been.

As he was musing thus, the door unclosed, and Willson and Dr. Leslie came in together.

66

Ah, you have brought my desk," said Mrs. Seymour, addressing the former with a smile.

"Yes; and the doctor," observed her husband, making an effort to keep up the conversation.

"So I see," replied Mrs. Seymour, holding out her hands for the desk.

"I am glad to find you here," said Dr. Leslie, coming forward. "Thank you," returned Mrs. Seymour, absently.

"Will you allow me to feel your pulse?" continued the precise little man, eyeing her somewhat anxiously.

"Presently, doctor," she replied in a tone of good-humoured impatience. "Just now I am all eagerness to read my son's last

letter, as we are neither of us quite certain what day he has fixed for returning home. I hope," she added with a smile, "you can wait long enough for that."

66

Oh, certainly," was the reply, accompanied by a respectful inclination of the head.

"Ah, here they are!" taking out a bundle of letters. "Now I wonder which is the one we want. Perhaps, my dear," putting them into her husband's hand, "you will be able to find it quicker than myself."

"Yes," interposed the doctor quickly, and with a meaning glance at Mr. Seymour, "I was about to remind you that I have strictly prohibited you from using your brain for some months to come.'

"But there is no exertion in reading a letter," remonstrated the lady.

"Even that had much better be avoided," was the decisive reply. "Is he not a thorough despot?" asked Mrs. Seymour, laughingly turning to her husband.

"Quite so," he replied, nervously beginning to open the packet.

Up to this time she had not noticed anything peculiar in his manner. Now, however, she fancied his voice sounded forced and unnatural; and, as she regarded him more attentively and with awakened interest, she was suddenly struck by the change which had taken place in his appearance.

"You are not ill!" she hastily demanded.

"Ill? oh, no!" he answered, with a faint and sickly smile.

"Mr. Seymour has, of course, suffered a great deal of uneasiness on your account," explained Dr. Leslie, seeing that she still looked unsatisfied; "but as he has no longer any cause for anxiety, he will soon be restored to his former health and spirits."

"I hope so," said Mrs. Seymour, with another wistful glance at him. "Is this the letter you wished to read?" inquired her husband, clearing his throat, and moving his chair back from the light; "it is dated the first of August."

"Yes; that must be it," replied the lady; "just look over it, my dear, and tell me what he says about coming home."

66

He speaks of the fifteenth of September," remarked Mr. Seymour, after a pause, during which his features worked convulsively, and his lip shook and quivered with suppressed emotion.

66

"Ah! I thought so,' ,"exclaimed the lady, starting up on her sofa; you see, we may expect him very soon."

Poor Mr. Seymour! Here was a new obstacle staring him in the face. Whichever way he turned, he seemed to meet with nothing but defeat and disappointment. What possible excuse could he give for Herbert's non-appearance at the stipulated time? how, as weeks and months rolled away, was his long-continued absence to be accounted for, except by running the risk of sending her to her grave by confessing the true state of the case?

Before his parched lips could utter a sound, Dr. Leslie had come to his relief, by saying in a tone of playful warning,—

"Don't count too much on your son's punctuality, my dear madam."

"Why should I not?" asked his patient, rather indignantly.

"Every one seems, at present, to be possessed with such a mania for travelling," continued the little man, reflectively rubbing his forehead,