Every one sought her in distress, her loving sweetness of disposition
was so well known. Great ladies came from London sometimes, looking
world-worn and weary, longing for comfort and sympathy. She gave it so
sweetly, no wonder they had desired it.

It was the same thing on our own estate. If husband and wife quarreled,
it was to my mother they appealed--if a child seemed inclined to go
wrong, the mother at once came to her for advice.

Was it any wonder that I, her only child, loved her so passionately when
every one else found her so sweet, beautiful and good?




CHAPTER II.


Lady Conyngham, who was one of the most beautiful and fashionable women
in London, came to spend a week with my mother. I knew from different
little things that had been said she had some great trouble with her
husband, but of course I did not know in the least what it was about.

As a rule, my mother sent me away on some pretext or other when they had
their long conversations; on this particular day she forgot me. When
Lady Conyngham began to talk I was behind my mother's chair with a book
of fairy tales. The first thing that aroused my attention was a sob from
Lady Conyngham and my mother saying to her: