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papa were saying this morning when you were in the boudoir."
"It was very wrong indeed," said Mr. Vivyan; "I did not think you
would have done such a thing, Arthur."
"Oh, Arthur, Arthur!" said his mother very gently and sadly, "why did
you, why did you not remember?"
He was crying now, and he did not need to be told that he had done
very wrong.
"Well, then, you know all about it, I suppose?" said Arthur's father.

"No, I don't, papa. I only heard that something dreadful was going to
happen; and you told 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