Russell to amuse his little brother, while he went off, as usual, to the
playground.

There was one silent witness of scenes like these, who laid them up
deeply in her heart. Mrs. Williams was not unobservant of the gradual
but steady falling off in Eric's character, and the first thing she
noticed was the blunting of his home affections. When they first came to
Roslyn, the boy used constantly to join his father and mother in their
walks; but now he went seldom or never; and even if he did go, he seemed
ashamed, while with them, to meet any of his schoolfellows. The spirit
of false independence was awake and growing in her darling son. The
bright afternoons they had spent together on the sunny shore, or seeking
for sea-flowers among the lonely rocks of the neighboring
headlands,--the walks at evening and sunset among the hills, and the
sweet counsel they had together, when the boy's character opened like a
flower in the light and warmth of his mother's love,--the long twilights
when he would sit on a stool with his young head resting on her knees,
and her loving hand among his fair hair,--all these things were becoming
to Mrs. Williams memories, and nothing more.

It was the trial of her life, and very sad to bear; the more so because
they were soon to be parted, certainly for years, perhaps for ever. The
time was drawing nearer and nearer; it was now June, and Mr. Williams'
term of furlough ended in two months. The holidays at Roslyn were the
months of July and August, and towards their close Mr. and Mrs. Williams
intended to leave Vernon at Fairholm, and start for India--sending back
Eric by himself as a boarder in Dr. Rowlands' house.

After morning school, on fine days, the boys used to run straight down
to the shore and bathe. A bright and joyous scene it was. They stripped