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Updated: June 12, 2025
She's had a bad time, poor girl but it's all right now, thank God! Come in and have a drink, Hugo." But Elwyn had shaken his head. Again he had gripped his old friend's hand, as he had done a week before, and again he had muttered the necessary words of congratulation. Then, turning on his heel, he had gone home, and spent the rest of the night in desultory packing.
Bellair would not be a suitable friend for Winifred or or for any young married woman." "Mother!" Elwyn only uttered the one word, but anger, shame, and self-reproach were struggling in the tone in which he uttered that one word. "You are wrong, indeed, you are quite wrong I mean about Fanny Bellair." "My dear," she said gently, but her voice quivered, "I do not think I am wrong.
Hugh Elwyn, sitting by his mother's side, wondered a little impatiently why she remained so faithful to the old brougham which he could remember, or so it seemed to him, all his life.
I haven't walked at all to-day, and it's so hot I feel I shouldn't sleep if I turn in now." He was punishing his mother as he had seen other sons punishing their mothers, but as he himself had never before to-night been tempted to punish his. Nay, more, as Hugh Elwyn watched her slow ascent up the staircase, he told himself that she had hurt and angered him past entire forgiveness.
He, the man, had known almost from the first where they too were drifting, but she, the woman, had slipped into love as a wanderer at night slips suddenly into a deep and hidden pool. In a story book they would both have gone away openly together but somehow the thought of doing such a thing never seriously occurred to Elwyn.
But the small, dark face, framed by the white pillow, was set in lines of deep, unchildlike gravity, and in the eyes which now gazed incuriously at Elwyn there was a strange, watchful light which seemed to illumine that which was within rather than that which was without. As is always the case with a living creature near to death, little Peter Bellair looked very lonely.
It might save a few moments." As Bellair left the room, the doctor turned to Elwyn and said abruptly, "I hope you'll be able to stay with your brother? All this is very hard on him; Mrs. Bellair will scarcely allow him into the child's room, and though that, of course, is quite right, I'm sorry for the man. He's wrapped up in the child."
Then, once more, Chance gave him an unlooked-for opportunity an opportunity of escape from what had become to him an intolerable position. The war broke out, and Hugh Elwyn was among the very first of those gallant fellows who volunteered during the dark November of '99.
Elwyn's lips they would never even have been credited by her had she known the truth the truth, that is, as to the child to whom Mrs. Bellair was so passionately devoted, and who now, it seemed, was ailing. That secret, and Hugh Elwyn thanked God, not irreverently, that it was so, was only shared by two human beings, that is by Fanny and himself.
This was the first time since her widowhood that she and her son had dined out together; but then the occasion was a very special one they had been to dinner with the family of Elwyn's fiancée, Winifred Fanshawe. Hugh Elwyn turned and looked at his mother.
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