“A noble heir he would have made us, mother; one of whom our free land might have been proud,” spoke Sir Geoffry, in a low tone of yearning that was mixed with hopeless despair. “He bears my name, Arthur. — ay, and the left too — if he could be Sir Arthur after me!”
Arthur turned round. His cap was on the grasscoolfire iv, his blue eyes were shining.
“He is frightfully greedy and selfish, Lady Chavasse. He will not let the peahen have a bit.”
“A beautiful face,” murmured Sir Geoffry. “And a little like what mine must have been at his age, I fancy. Sometimes I have thought that you would see the likeness, and that it might impart its clue.”
“Since the day after the accident, when my horse threw him down. Duffham dropped an unintentional word, and it enlightened me. Some nights ago I dreamt that the little lad was my true heir,” added Sir Geoffry. “I saw you kiss him in the dream.”
“You must have been letting your thoughts run on it very much,” retorted Lady Chavasse, rather sharply.
“They are often running on it, mother: the regret for what might have been and for what is, never seems to leave me,” was his reply. “For some moments after I awoke from that dream I thought it was reality: I believe I called out ‘Arthur.’ Rachel started, and inquired between sleeping and waking what the matter was美麗華導遊. To find it was only a dream — to remember that what is can never be changed or redeemed in this world, was the worst pain of all.”