"But he knows nobody there. He would be quite alone. For I can not— do you not see I can not?—leave my father. Oh, it is like being pulled in two," cried Mrs. Bruce, in great distress.
"Be patient, Helen, and hear. We have arranged it all, the boy and I.
Next week we are both bound for St. Andrew's."
"You?"
"You think I shall be useless? That it is a man, and not such a creature as I, who ought to take charge of your boy?"
The earl spoke with that deep bitterness which sometimes, though very, very rarely, he betrayed, till he saw what exceeding pain he had given.
"Forgive me, Helen; I know you did not mean that; but it was what I myself often thought until this morning. Now I see that after all I— even I—may be the very best person to go with the boy, because, while keeping a safe watch over him, and a cheerful house always open to him, I shall also give him somebody to take care of. I shall be as much charge to him almost as a woman, and it will be good for him. Do you not perceive this?"
Helen did, clearly enough.
"Besides," continued the earl, "I might, perhaps, like to see the world myself—just once again. At any rate, I shall like to see it through this young man's eyes. He has not told you of our plan yet?"
"Not a word."
"That is well. I like to see he can keep faith. I made him promise not, because I wanted to tell you myself, Helen—I wanted to see how you would take the plan. Will you let us go? That is, the boy must go, and—you will do without me for a year?"