"Hubert, my boy!" she murmured, tremulously.
"Mother!" he answered, embracing her; then, flinging himself on a low hassock by her side, he caught both of her hands in his and kissed them.
"I am so glad you are come, my son," she breathed—"I am so ill!"
He tried to cheer her with his brave, bright words; but she only smiled at him faintly, wistfully.
She brought round the subject uppermost in her mind.
"I wonder what has became of Jessie Bain?" she asked, abruptly.
"Why do you ask me, mother?" he replied, evasively, flushing to the roots of his curling hair—and that blush betrayed to her keen eyes that he had not as yet lost interest in the girl.
"I want you to promise me, Hubert," she whispered, "that if anything should ever happen to me, you will not think of even searching for Jessie Bain, in order to marry her."
He dropped the white, jeweled hands he held, and looked at her in grave apprehension, a troubled look in his earnest eyes.
"I wish I could promise what you ask, mother," he said; "but unfortunately, I— I can not; it is too late! I have already searched for Jessie Bain, and found her, and have offered her my heart and hand."