“‘And—must I part with my child, oh, father?’ I pleaded.
“‘For a time you must—for his sake as well as for your own. What should Lady Elfrida Glennon do with a young child at Myrtle Grove?’
“I would have pleaded with him, but I saw at a glance that it was useless to do so. Kind, tender, gentle, yielding as my father was in most cases, yet when he once made up his mind to any course his will was as strong as fate. Besides, I and my child were both in his power. I had no other alternative than to obey him. And, finally, notwithstanding the pain I felt in parting from my boy, I could not fail to see that, under the circumstances, it was best for the child, and best for us all, that he should be put out to be nursed.
“I took the sole charge of the child while we were seeking for a nurse. We had many applications, but I was hard to please. At length the right woman came; a fine, fresh, young creature, with a plump form, bright eyes, rosy cheeks, a pleasant smile, and a sweet voice. She attracted me at sight. She was the wife of a young dairyman. She had one child, a week older than my boy; and she was well able to nurse twins, if Heaven had sent twins to her. She was willing and anxious to take our little orphan. She invited us to go down into Kent and see for ourselves the comfort and cleanliness of the dairy farm, and the health and liveliness of her own child.
“We took her at her word and went home with her—only a few miles from London—and we were so well satisfied with all we found there that we concluded it would be difficult to do as well, and impossible to do better, anywhere else; and we left the baby with her, with a check for twenty-five pounds, that was to be renewed quarterly.
“I may here say that this young woman, Mary Chester, did her full duty by her nurseling, as I found in my periodical visits to the dairy.
“As soon as Myrtle Grove was ready for occupation, my father took me down there.
“It was a comparatively small place, but a lovely, secluded home, in a deep, green, wooded glen, about three miles inland from the sea.
“Here we lived a very quiet life, seeing no one but the vicar, the Rev. Mr. Ashe, of St. Agnes’ Church, the country practitioner, Dr. Ray, and the country lawyer, Mr. Flood, who was my father’s local man of business.
“We were both in deep mourning for my stepmother, and that fact justified our seclusion from the world.