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mother to tell some one, and she said she couldn't; and then you said you would, and I don't remember the rest."
Mr. Vivyan smiled rather sadly, and Arthur felt his mother's arm more closely clasped around him.
"Was it about me?" asked Arthur presently.
Mr. Vivyan looked up at his wife, and then he said, "Arthur, my boy, when I was in India before, why did your mother stay in England?"
"I don't know," said Arthur, somewhat surprised at the question. "To take care of me, I suppose. Oh no, it wasn't, though; it was because she was ill, and she couldn't live in India, the doctor said."
"Yes; and now, is she as ill as she was then?"
"Oh no, I should think not!" said Arthur brightly. "She is ever so much better, aren't you, mother?"
"Yes, dear," she said gently.
"Well," said Mr. Vivyan, speaking very slowly, and laying his hand kindly on Arthur's curls, "did you know, Arthur, that my time for being in England is very nearly over? there are only six weeks more left."
"Yes, father," said Arthur, and feeling his father's hand laid so tenderly on his head, he felt more sorry at the thought that he was going than he had ever done before. "I'm very sorry."
"But then, don't you see, my boy," Mr. Vivyan said, looking anxious and as if he had great difficulty in expressing himself, "your mother need not stay at home this time?"
"No," said Arthur, after a pause, "I suppose not. And am I going to India too?"
"Why no, my dear child. You know how glad we should be to take you with us; and very likely you do not know, Arthur, what it costs us to leave you at home. But you know you could not go; children of your age would very likely not live."
Arthur turned quickly round, and gazed with an incredulous, questioning look at his father and mother. He could not see his mother's face, for it was hidden by her hand; but if he had looked closely he might have seen that her whole form was trembling, though she did not speak a word.
"Papa," said Arthur presently, "what can you mean? Do you really mean that you and mother are going out to India, and that you are going to leave me in England by myself?"
"Dear Arthur, you know we must."
Arthur turned away, and for a little while he said nothing. Presently he spoke--it seemed as if half to himself--"No, I don't believe that," he said. "I don't believe that could be true."
"Arthur, my darling, darling boy, come here," said his mother, after some time when nobody had spoken.
Arthur came nearer to his mother, and laid his head upon her knee. He was feeling almost stunned, and as if he had not understood yet what he had heard. Then a sudden thought came over him, that it meant he would soon not be able to do this any more.
"Mamma," he said in a low voice, which was very touchingly sad in its hopelessness, "need you go? Wouldn't you rather stay at home with me?"
"Oh, Arthur," said Mrs. Vivyan, "you must not say those things, dear."
"Won't you take me with you, then? I don't believe I could stay at home without you. Won't you take me? Oh, do! please, do!"
All this was said in a very low, mournful voice; for Arthur felt almost as if he had not strength to cry about it.
"Arthur," said Mr. Vivyan, speaking gravely but kindly, "I tell you we would if we could; but you must be contented to believe that it cannot be."
"But I am sure it would do me no harm, father; you don't know how much heat I can bear. I believe I am better sometimes in hot weather. And oh! I don't believe I could live in England by myself."
He gave a very weary sigh, and leant his head heavily on his mother. Presently he felt a tear on his forehead, and he knew that she must be crying.
"My own darling little mamma," said Arthur, "I love you with my whole heart. Oh, you don't know how very much I love you!" and he gave a deep, weary sigh.
She put her arm round him, and pressed him very closely to her heart; and he felt as if he were a tired little baby, and that it was very nice to have his mother's arm around him. By and by he began crying; not with a hard, passionate feeling, but in a weak, weary way, the tears flowing down one after another over his mother's hands.
"My dear child," said Mr. Vivyan, as the time came nearer for Arthur to go to bed, "you don't know what it is to your mother and to me to leave you; but we hope you will be happy by