At Last.
Brace Norton, on his return from the marsh, had been wandering about in a strange, restless fashion; which troubled those who, unknown to himself, had been watching him keenly day after day. For the eyes of father and mother had met, for each to read the other’s thoughts, as they recalled a scene which took place in a pine wood directly after a wedding, many years ago.
“I don’t fear it of him,” said Captain Norton, quietly; “but if you wish it—”
“How can you read my thought so well?” said Mrs Norton, sadly. “It is indeed my wish. He has now just taken the direction of the marsh again.”
“I will not leave him again until he seems calm and resigned to his fate,” said Captain Norton.
“Calm—resigned,” said Mrs Norton, mournfully. “Then there is no hope for him, poor boy?”
“Hope? Not in that direction, I fear,” said the Captain; and he strode after his son.
It required no great exertion to overtake the young man; and, ready to suspect danger, Captain Norton viewed with anxious heart the strange, vacant look in his son’s face.
“Off for another walk, Brace?” he said, cheerfully, as he clapped him on the shoulder.
“Yes,” said Brace, drearily.