"And you thought--you think--of taking a home for yourselves?"

"Yes."

"I suppose you do not object," said Brian, slowly, "to the gossip to which such a step on your part is sure to give rise?"

"I have not considered the matter. Gossip will not touch me."

"No." Brian would not for worlds have said that the step she contemplated taking would be disastrous for him. Yet for one moment, he could not banish the consciousness that all the world would now have good reason to believe that his mother held him guilty of his brother's death. He did not know that the world suspected him already.

It was with an unmoved front that he presently continued.

"I, myself, had a proposition to make which would perhaps render it needless for you to leave Netherglen, which, as you say, is legally your own. You may not have considered that I am hardly likely to have much love for the place after what has occurred in it. You know that neither you nor I can sell any portion of the property--even you would not care to let it, I suppose, to strangers for the present. I think of going abroad--probably probably for some years. I have always wanted to travel. The house on the Strathleckie side of the property can be let; and as for Netherglen, it would be an advantage for the place if you made it your home for as many months in the year as you chose. I don't see why you should not do so. I shall not return to this neighbourhood."

"It does not seem to occur to you," said Mrs. Luttrell, in measured tones, "that Angela and I may also have an objection to residing in a place which will henceforth have so many painful memories attached to it."

"If that is the case," said Brian, after a little pause, "there is no more to be said."

"I will ask Angela," said Mrs. Luttrell, stretching out her hand to a little handbell which stood upon the table at her side.

Brian started. "Then I will come to you again," he said, moving hastily to the door. "I will see you after lunch."

"Pray do not go," said his mother, giving two very decisive strokes of the bell by means of a pressure of her firm, white fingers. "Let us settle the matter while we are about it. There will be no need of a second interview."

"But Angela will not want to see me."

"Angela----Ask Miss Vivian to come to me at once if she can" (to the maid who appeared at the door)--"Angela expressed a wish to see you this morning."

Brian stood erect by the mantelpiece, biting his lips under his soft, brown moustache, and very much disposed to take the matter into his own hands, and walk straight out of the room. But some time or other Angela must be faced; perhaps as well now as at any other time. He waited, therefore, in silence, until the door opened and Angela appeared.

"Brian!" said the soft voice, in as kind and sisterly a tone as he had ever heard from her.

"Brian!"

She was close to him, but he dared not look up until she took his unresisting hand in hers and held it tenderly. Then he raised his head a very little and looked at her.

She had always been pale, but now she was snow-white, and the extreme delicacy and even fragility of her appearance were thrown into strong relief by the dead black of her mourning gown. Her eyes were full of tears, and her lips were quivering; but Brian knew in a moment, by instinct, that she at least believed in the innocence of his heart, although his hand had taken his brother's life. He stooped down and kissed the hand that held his own, so humbly, so sorrowfully, that Angela's heart yearned over him. She understood him, and she had room, even in her great grief, to be sorry for him too. And when he withdrew his hand and turned away from her with one deep sob that he did not know how to repress, she tried to comfort him.

"Dear Brian," she said, "I know--I understand. Poor fellow! it is very hard for you. It is hard for us all; but I think it is hardest of all for you."

"I would have given my life for his, Angela," said Brian, in a smothered voice.

"I know you would. I know you loved him," said Angela, the tears streaming now down her pale cheeks. "There is only one thing for us to say, Brian--It was God's will that he should go."

"How you must hate the sight of me," groaned Brian. He had almost forgotten the presence of Mrs. Luttrell, whose hard, watchful eyes were taking notice of every detail of the scene.

"I will not trouble you long; I am going to leave Scotland; I will go far away; you shall never see my face again."

"But I should be sorry for that," said Angela's soft, caressing voice, into which a tremor stole from time to time that made it doubly sweet.

"I shall want to see you again. Promise me that you will come back, Brian--some day."

"Some day?" he repeated, mournfully. "Well, some day, Angela, when you can look on me without so much pain as you must needs feel now, any day when you have need of me. But, as I am going so very soon, will you tell me yourself whether Netherglen is a place that you hold in utter abhorrence now? Would it hurt you to make Netherglen your home? Could you and my mother find happiness--or at least peace--if you lived here together? or would it be too great a trial for you to bear?"

"It rests with you to decide, Angela," said Mrs. Luttrell from her sofa.

"I have no choice; it signifies little to me whether I go or stay. If it would pain you to live at Netherglen, say so; and we will choose another home."

"Pain me?" said Angela. "To stay here--in Richard's home?"

"Would you dislike it?" asked Mrs. Luttrell.

The girl came to her side, and put her arms round the mother's neck.

Mrs. Luttrell's face softened curiously as she did so; she laid one of her hands upon Angela's shining hair with a caressing movement.

"Dislike it? It would be my only happiness," said Angela. She stopped, and then went on with soft vehemence--"To think that I was in his house, that I looked on the things that he used to see every day, that I could sometimes do the thing that he would have liked to see me doing--it is all I could wish for, all that life could give me now! Yes, yes, let us stay."

"It's perhaps not so good for you as one might wish," said Mrs.

Luttrell, regarding her tenderly. "You had perhaps better have a change for a time; there is no reason why you should live for ever in the past, like an old woman, Angela. The day will come when you may wish to make new ties for yourself--new interests----"

Angela's whisper reached her ear alone.

"'Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee,'" she murmured in the words of the widowed Moabitess, "'for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God...'"

Mrs. Luttrell clasped her in her arms and kissed her forehead. Then after a little pause she said to Brian--

"We will stay."

Brian bowed his head.

"I will make all necessary arrangements with Mr. Colquhoun, and send him to you," he said. "I think there is nothing else about which we have to speak?"

"Nothing," said Mrs. Luttrell, steadily.

"Except Hugo. As I am going away from home for so long I think it would be better if I settled a certain sum in the Funds upon him, so that he might have a moderate income as well as his pay. Does that meet with your approval?"

"My approval matters very little, but you can do as you choose with your own money. I suppose you wish that this house should be kept open for him?"

"That is as you please. He would be better for a home. May I ask what Angela thinks?"

"Oh, yes," said Angela, lifting her face slowly from Mrs. Luttrell's shoulder. "He must not feel that he has lost a home, must he, mother?"

She pronounced the title which Mrs. Luttrell had begged her to bestow, still with a certain diffidence and hesitancy; but Mrs. Luttrell's brow smoothed when she heard it.

"We will do what we can for him," she said.

"He has not been very steady of late," Brian went on slowly, wondering whether he was right to conceal Hugo's misdeeds and evil tendencies. "I hope he will improve; you will have patience with him if he is not very wise. And now, will you let me say good-bye to you? I shall leave Netherglen to-morrow."

"To-morrow?" said Angela, wonderingly. "Why should you go so soon?"

"It is better so," Brian answered.