CHAPTER XII.
"_And down on aching heart and brain Blow after blow unbroken falls._" BOKER "A letter for you, sir," said the clerk, as Surrey stopped at the desk for his key.

It was a bulky epistle, addressed in his aunt Russell's hand, and he carried it off, wondering what she could have to say at such length.
He was in no mood to read or to enjoy; but, nevertheless, tore open the cover, finding within it a double letter.

Taking the envelope of one from the folds of the other, his eye fell first upon his mother's writing; a short note and a puzzling one.
* * * * * "My dear Willie:-- "I have tried to write you a letter, but cannot.

I never wounded you if I could avoid it, and I do not wish to begin now.

Augusta and I had a talk about you yesterday which crazed me with anxiety.