"I can't sleep," the boy said, clinging to her, with his arms round her neck.
"But you must try to sleep—for my sake. Don't toss about, but lie quite still, that is far the best way."
"I did," said Geoff, "and said all the poetry I knew, and did the multiplication table twice. I wanted you. I kept quiet as long as I could—but I wanted you so."
"But you must not want me. You are too big to want your mother."
"I shall never be too big, I want you always," said Geoff, murmuring in the dark, with his little arms clinging close round her neck.
"Oh, Geoff, my dearest boy! but for my sake you must content yourself—for my sake."
"Was he angry?" the child asked, and in the cover of the darkness he clenched his little hands and contracted his brows; all of which she guessed, though she saw not.
"That is not a question to ask," she said. "You must never speak to me so; and remember, Geoff,—they say I am spoiling you—I will never come when you call me after to-night."
But Lady Markland's heart was very heavy as she went downstairs. She had put her child away from her; and she sat alone in the large still drawing-room all the evening, hearing the carriages come and go outside, and hansoms dashing up which she hoped might be coming to her own door. But Theo did not come back. This was one of many evenings which she spent alone, in disgrace, not knowing how to get her pardon, feeling guilty, yet having done nothing. Her second venture had not brought her very much additional happiness so far.