Let me have my darling
once more, and I will banish from my heart every feeling which a
Christian should abjure."
Bitter remorse was mingled with the agony which rent the mother's heart
in those terrible hours. All at once her eyes were opened to the deep
and dreadful guilt involved in those vengeful feelings she had so long
nourished, to the exclusion of all tender emotions, all generous
instincts.
Bitterly did the mother upbraid herself as she sat, with her hands
clasped tightly together, her pale face turned to the window, her
haggard eyes looking out at every object on the road, eager to behold
any landmark that would tell her that she was so many miles nearer the
end of her journey.
She had concluded that, as a matter of course, the disappearance of the
child had been directly or indirectly the work of Sir Reginald
Eversleigh; and she said as much to Mr. Larkspur. But, to her surprise,
she found that he did not share her opinion upon this subject.
"If you ask me whether Sir Reginald is in it, I'll tell you candidly,
no, my lady, I don't think he is. I don't need to tell you that I've
had a deal of experience in my time; and, if that experience is worth a
brass button, Sir Reginald hasn't any hand in this business down in
Yorkshire."
"Not directly, perhaps, but indirectly," interrupted Honoria.
"Neither one nor the other," answered the great man of Bow Street.
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