“Only remember, Mr. Dudley, we must have no speculating; you must keep it intact for your son,” remarked Mr. Stewart, in answer to which Arthur took his wife’s hand in his, murmuring, “So help me God!”
Before the sun quite set, Heather drew a shawl round her, and, leaving the pleasant company, passed out on to the lawn, and wandered away towards the Hollow.
“She is thinking of Lally,” Alick whispered to Arthur; and Arthur, following his wife, prayed and begged of her not to grieve for the child that was no more.
“Heather,” he said, humbly, “I have been but a poor husband to you; but I will try in the future, to be ‘better to you than many children.’ Do not fret, love, do not fret.”
But Heather was not fretting. She felt now that her darling was where she could see continually the face of “Our Father which is in Heaven.”
THE END.
LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.
TINSLEY BROTHERS’ NEW NOVELS
AT ALL LIBRARIES.