"I wish you would write to me from time to time during my absence, Hewitt, and let me know how my mother is," resumed Karl, dropping the unsatisfactory subject.
"And that I will with pleasure, Sir Karl, if you will furnish me with an address to write to."
"And be sure, Hewitt, that you send to me in any trouble or sickness. I wish my poor mother's life was a less lonely one!"
Hewitt shook his head as he left the room. He felt sure that his mistress would never more allow her life to be anything but a lonely one: the light of it had gone out of it for ever with her beloved son.
Sir Karl went up to his chamber shortly. Before he had well closed his door, a maid knocked at it, and said Mrs. Andinnian wished to see him. Karl had supposed his mother to be in bed: instead of that, he found her standing by the fire in her little sitting-room, and not undressed.
"Shut the door, Karl," she said--and he saw that her face was working with some painful emotion. "I have been debating a question with myself the better part of this evening, down stairs and up--whether or no I shall disclose to you the trouble that is upon us: and I have resolved to do so. Of two evils, it may, perhaps, be the least."
"I am very glad indeed, my mother."
"Hush!" she solemnly said, lifting a warning hand. "Speak not before you know. Glad! It has been consideration for you, Sir Karl," she added, in that stern and distant tone that so pained him, "that has alone kept me silent. You have no doubt been thinking me unnaturally cold and reserved; but my heart has been aching. Aching for you. If I have not loved you with the passionate love I bore for your poor brother--and oh, Karl, he was my firstborn!--I have not been so neglectful of you as you may imagine. In striving to keep you away from Foxwood, I was but anxious that your peace should not be imperilled earlier than it was obliged to be."
"Let me hear it mother. I can bear it, I daresay."
"You may bear it, Karl. A man can bear most things. But, my son, I dread to tell it you. You will regard it as an awful calamity, a frightful perplexity, and your spirit may faint under it."