"On what grounds?"
"Chiefly, I think, because I wanted her to make reparation to Miss Colwyn."
"Then, Philip, she is not worthy of you."
"She has had a bad training," he said, slowly. "A fine nature ruined by indulgence and luxury. She has never been crossed in her life."
"She will find out what it is to be crossed some day. My poor Phil! I am very sorry."
"We need not talk about it, mother, dear. You will be all in all to me now."
He sat down beside her, and took her hand in his, then kissed it with a mingling of tenderness and respect which brought the tears to Lady Ashley's eyes.
"But I do not want to be all in all to you, you foolish boy," she assured him. "I want to see you with a wife, with children of your own, with family ties and interests and delights."
"Not yet, mother," he answered in a low tone. "Some day, perhaps."
And from the pained look in his dark eyes she saw that he suffered more than he would have liked to own for the loss of Margaret. She said no more, but her heart ached for her boy, and she was hardly able to comfort herself with the recollection that Time heals all wounds—even those that have been made by Love.