"My usual work—nothing."
"But you have been thinking. What about?" cried Cardross, with the affectionate persistency of one who knew himself a favorite, and looking up in the earl's face with his bright, fond eyes—Helen's very eyes.
"I was thinking of your mother, my boy. You know it is a whole year since I have seen your mother."
"So she said in her last letter, and wondered when you intended coming home, because she misses you more and more every day."
"You, she means, Carr."
"No, yourself. I know my mother wishes you would come home."
"Does she? And so do I. But I should have to leave you alone, my boy; for if once I make the effort, and return to Cairnforth, I know I shall never quit it more."
He spoke earnestly—more so than the occasion seemed to need, and there was a weary look in his eyes which struck his companion.
"Are you afraid to leave me alone, Lord Cairnforth?" asked Cardross, sadly.
"No." And again, as if he had not answered strongly enough, he repeated, "My dear boy, no!"