“Are you in good health and spirits? It has struck me that you do not look so happy and contented as when you left for this—this hunting expedition.”
Lord Ethalwood burst out into a loud laugh.
“Why, my dear mother,” said he, “to hear you speak thus one would almost imagine you to be a fatalist.”
“Well, assuming you came to that conclusion, what then?”
“What! You would not have me come to any such rash conclusion, I should imagine?”
“Have you reflected upon past events?” said Aveline. “Have you duly considered the strange vicissitudes of the house of Ethalwood, of which you are now the representative? Have you thought of the untimely deaths of the younger members of that honourable line—of the sad end of your grandmother, and all the events which have led to your being the rightful and acknowledged heir? It behoves you, my son, to be duly impressed with your position, to strive in every possible way to support, to the best of your ability, the dignity of our house.”
“I am duly impressed with all this,” said the young earl, “and do not need to be reminded of it.”
“Ah, Reginald,” exclaimed Aveline, “pardon me for being thus plain-spoken. In you I behold the sole surviving link, from the present to the past, of a great race.”
“I know that, mother. But why this concern and anxiety? I am well, and am heedful of the trust which is imposed upon me.”
“Spoken like my own dear son,” said Aveline. “I am sure you will never do aught to compromise or sully the honour of the Ethalwoods.”