48 WITH KITCHENER IN THE SOUDAN And what was the illness you had, Mother ? ” “ It was an affection of the lungs, dear ; it was a constant cough that threatened to turn to consumption, which is one of the most fatal diseases we have in England.”

“ But it hasn’t cured you. Mother, for I often hear you coughing at night.”

‘Yes, my cough has been a little troublesome of late, Gregory.”

Indeed from the time of the disaster to the expedition of Hicks Pasha, Annie Hilliard had lost ground. She herself was conscious of it, but except for the sake of the boy she had not troubled over it. She had not altogether given up hope, but the hope grew fainter and fainter as the years went on. Had it not been for the promise to her husband not to mention his real name or to make any application to his father unless absolutely assured of his death, she would, for Gregory’s sake, have written to Mr. Hartley, and asked for help that would have enabled her to take the boy home to England and have him properly educated there. But she had an implicit faith in the binding of a promise so made, and as long as she was not driven by absolute want to apply to Mr. Hartley, was determined to keep to it.

A year after this conversation Gregory was sixteen. Mow tall and strong, he had for some time past been anxious to obtain some employment that would enable his mother to give up her teaching. Some of this, indeed, she had been* obliged to relinquish. During the past few months her cheeks had become hollow, and her cough was now frequent by day as well as by night. She had consulted an English doctor, who, she saw by the paper, was staying at Shepherd’s Hotel. He had hesitated before giving a direct opinion, but on her imploring him to tell her the exact state of her health, said gently: ‘I am afraid, madam, that I can give you no hope of recovery ; one lung has already gone, the other is very seriously diseased. Were you living in England I should say that your life might be prolonged by taking you to a