'Very well, then, I will drive you over in the dogcart. I am no walker, as you know, and perhaps Kester had better go with us;' and to this Cyril made no demur. 'Now I have detained you long enough, and Mrs. Blake will be wearying for you. I will bring the trap round at half-past two.'
Cyril nodded, and they went downstairs together. Michael paused for an instant at the drawing-room door:
'Be gentle with her, Blake,' he said, as he grasped his hand. 'What is done cannot be undone;' and then he went down to Kester.
Mrs. Blake was still in the same position. The tension of that long waiting had been too much for her, and the old faintness had returned; but when she saw her son she struggled into a sitting posture and stretched out her hands to him as he came slowly, and almost reluctantly, towards her.
'Cyril! my darling Cyril!' Then he took her hand and held it for a moment. 'My boy,' she said a little piteously, 'have you nothing else for your mother?'
But he seemed as though he failed to understand her, and when she pointed mutely to the seat beside her, he did not at once seat himself.
'Mother,' he said, still speaking as though the words were difficult to him, 'I have come to tell you that there shall be peace between us.'
'Does that mean you have forgiven me, Cyril?'
'It means that I will do my best to forgive you your share in the ruin of my life—of all our lives.'
Then as he stood before her she threw her arms round him with a faint cry; but he gently, very gently, repulsed her.