"If you will; though it seems a pity to part with a gift of mine, when the sum is a mere nothing to me, with my large income, which, Helen, will one day be all yours."
Helen was silent—a little sorry and ashamed. The earl talked with her till he had succeeded in calming her and bringing her into her natural self again—able to see things in their right proportions, and take just views of all.
"Then you will trust me?" she said at last. "You think I may be depended upon to do nothing rashly when I go to Edinburg to-morrow?"
"My dear, I have no intention of letting you go."
"But some one must go. Something must be done, and I can not trust Alick to do it. My brother does not understand my boy," said she, returning to her restless, helpless manner. She, the helpful Helen, only weak in this one point—her only son.
"Something has been done. I have already sent for Cardross. He will be at the Castle to-morrow."
Helen started.
"At the Castle, I said, not the Manse. No, Helen, you shall not be compromised; you may be as severe as you like with your son. But he is my son too"—and a faint shade of color passed over the earl's withered cheeks—"my adopted son, and it is time that he should know it."
"Do you mean to tell him—"
"I mean to tell him all my intentions concerning him."