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106 BLACK SHEEP.He found his step-son and Mark Fulton inMrs. Carruthers's room. The day yvaschilly anclgloomy, ancl eminently suggestive of the advantagespossessed by an English country mansionover the most commodious and expensive of foreignlodging-houses. George hacl just placed ashawl round his mother's shoulders,and yvas improvingthe fastenings of the windows, whichwerein their normal condition in foreign parts."Mark has been talking about Poynings,"said Mrs. Carruthers, turning to her husbandwith a smile, " ancl says he never saw aplace headmired more, though he hacl only a passingglimpse ofit."Mr. Carruthers yvas pleased, though of courseit was only natural that Mr. Felton should neverhave seen anyplace more to be admired by personsof well-regulated taste than Poynings."Of course," he said, yvith modest admission," if you come to talk about the Dukeries, anclthat kind of thing, there's nothing to be said forPoynings. But it is a nice place,andIam veryfond of it,and so is Laura."He yvas rather alarmed, when he had said this,

MOVING ON.107to observe his wife's eyes full of tears.Tearsindicated recollection, and of a painful kind, hethought, being but little acquainted yvith the intricatesymptoms of feminine humannature, yvhichrecollection must be avoided, or turned aside, inapleasurable direction.Now George's cleverness yvas a direction of therequired kind,andMr.Carruthers proceeded toremarkthat George mustmake drawings for his motherofall the favourite points of vieyv atPoynings." There's the terrace, George," he said," anclthe 'Tangle,' where your mother loves to spendthe summer afternoons, and there's the beechwood,from the hill behind the garden, ancl theThere are several spots you yvilllong avenue.like, George, and — and," said Mr. Carruthers,magnanimously, and blushing all over his notmuch withered face, like a woman, "I'm onlysorry you are to make acquaintance with them solate in the day."He put out his hand, yvith true British awkwardness,ashe spoke, and the young man tookit respectfully, and yvith an atoning pang ofshame and self-reproach. But for his mother's

MOVING ON.107to observe his wife's eyes full of tears.Tearsindicated recollection, and of a painful kind, hethought, being but little acquainted yvith the intricatesymptoms of feminine humannature, yvhichrecollection must be avoided, or turned aside, inapleasurable direction.Now George's cleverness yvas a direction of therequired kind,andMr.Carruthers proceeded toremarkthat George mustmake drawings for his motherofall the favourite points of vieyv atPoynings." <strong>The</strong>re's the terrace, George," he said," anclthe 'Tangle,' where your mother loves to spendthe summer afternoons, and there's the beechwood,from the hill behind the garden, ancl the<strong>The</strong>re are several spots you yvilllong avenue.like, George, and — and," said Mr. Carruthers,magnanimously, and blushing all over his notmuch withered face, like a woman, "I'm onlysorry you are to make acquaintance with them solate in the day."He put out his hand, yvith true British awkwardness,ashe spoke, and the young man tookit respectfully, and yvith an atoning pang ofshame and self-reproach. But for his mother's

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