For one moment he felt tempted to answer-- "For my beloved wife whom Heaven has taken from me." But he remembered the probable consequence of such a shock to his father, and replied, quietly: "For one of my friends, father--one whom you did not know." And Lord Mountdean did not suspect.
Another time the old earl placed his arm round his son's neck.
"How I wish, Hubert," he said, "that your mother had lived to see you a grown man! I think--do not laugh at me, my son--I think yours is perfect manhood; you please me infinitely." Lord Charlewood smiled at the simple, loving praise.
"I have a woman's pride in your handsome face and tall, stately figure.
How glad I am, my son, that no cloud has ever come between us! You have been the best of sons to me.

When I die you can say to yourself that you have never once in all your life given me one moment's pain.

How pleased I am that you gave up that foolish marriage for my sake! You would not have been happy.

Heaven never blesses such marriages." He little knew that each word was as a dagger to his son's heart.
"After you had left me and had gone back to England," he continued, "I used to wonder if I had done wisely or well in refusing you your heart's desire; now I know that I did well, for unequal marriages never prosper.
She, the girl you loved, may have been very beautiful, but you would never have been happy with her." "Hush, father!" said Lord Charlewood, gently.

"We will not speak of this again." "Does it still pain you?
tell me, my son," cried the earl.
"Not in the way you think," he replied.
"I would not pain you for the world--you know that, Hubert.