Yet he could never forget that her birth had cost her mother's life.

Also, there was something whose existence seemed to wring his father's heart, though he would never tell me what it was.
Again, he once said in a moment of relaxation of his purpose of silence: "'She is unlike her mother; but in both feature and colour she has a marvellous resemblance to the pictures of Queen Tera.' "He said that he had sent her away to people who would care for her as he could not; and that till she became a woman she should have all the simple pleasures that a young girl might have, and that were best for her.

I would often have talked with him about her; but he would never say much.

Once he said to me: 'There are reasons why I should not speak more than is necessary.

Some day you will know--and understand!' I respected his reticence; and beyond asking after her on my return after a journey, I have never spoken of her again.