MR.

WARDLAW went down to his son and nursed him.

He kept the newspapers from him, and, on his fever abating, had him conveyed by easy stages to the seaside, and then sent him abroad.
The young man obeyed in gloomy silence.

He never asked after Robert Penfold, now; never mentioned his name.

He seemed, somehow, thankful to be controlled mind and body.
But, before he had been abroad a month, he wrote for leave to return home and to throw himself into business.