"Ah! if you could. But, never mind, I will endeavour to shake off this depression. And, Herbert, comfort your mother; do not let her think much of all this, if it can be helped."
"But how can it be helped?"
"And tell her this: there is a matter that troubles my mind."
"Is it about the property, father?"
"No—yes; it certainly is about the property in one sense."
"Then do not heed it; we shall none of us heed it. Who has so good a right to say so as I?"
"Bless you, my darling boy! But, Herbert, such things must be heeded—more or less, you know: but you may tell your mother this, and perhaps it may comfort her. I have made up my mind to go to London and to see Prendergast; I will explain the whole of this thing to him, and as he bids me so will I act."
This was thought to be satisfactory to a certain extent both by the mother and son. They would have been better pleased had he opened his heart to them and told them everything; but that it was clear he could not bring himself to do. This Mr. Prendergast they had heard was a good man; and in his present state it was better that he should seek counsel of any man than allow his sorrow to feed upon himself alone.