"Not any. You would make a bad lawyer, Barbara."

"An officer in her majesty's service, in John Herbert's regiment. I ascertained no more. Tom said he was of good family. But I cannot help suspecting it is the same man."

"Nothing in the present stage of the affair," continued Mr. Carlyle, as he passed through the gate to continue his way. "We can only wait on again with what patience we may, hoping that time will bring about its own elucidation."

Barbara pressed her forehead down on the cold iron of the gate as his footsteps died away. "Aye, to wait on," she murmured, "to wait on in dreary pain; to wait on, perhaps, for years, perhaps forever! And poor Richard--wearing out his days in poverty and exile!"

"I should recommend a complete change of scene altogether, Mr. Carlyle. Say some place on the French or Belgian coast. Sea bathing might do wonders."

"Should you think it well for her to go so far from home?"

"I should. In these cases of protracted weakness, where you can do nothing but try to coax the strength back again, change of air and scene are of immense benefit."

"I will propose it to her," said Mr. Carlyle.

(Editor：power)