deep sorrow weighing on his father's heart of which they none of
them knew anything save its existence; that there might be some
misfortune coming on Sir Thomas of which he, Herbert, could not even
guess the nature; but that everything would be told to this Mr.
Prendergast.

"It is very sad," said Herbert.

"Very sad; very sad," said Clara, with tears in her eyes. "Poor
gentleman! I wish that we could comfort him."

"And I do hope that we may," said Herbert.

"Somers seems to think that his mind is partly affected, and that
this misfortune, whatever it be, may not improbably be less serious
than we anticipate;-that it weighs heavier on him than it would do,
were he altogether well."

"And your mother, Herbert?"

"Oh, yes; she also is to be pitied. Sometimes, for moments, she
seems to dread some terrible misfortune; but I believe that in her
calm judgment she thinks that our worst calamity is the state of my
father's health."

Neither in discussing the matter with his mother or Clara, nor in
thinking it over when alone, did it ever occur to Herbert that he
himself might be individually subject to the misfortune over which
his father brooded. Sir Thomas had spoken piteously to him, and
called him poor, and had seemed to grieve over what might happen to