The Light of Scarthey by Egerton Castle

And I only think of the woman that weeps; But I forget, always forget, the smiling child. _Luteplayer's Song._

That night, even when sheer fatigue had subdued the currents of blood and thought that surged in his head, Sir Adrian was too restless to avail himself of the emergency couch providently prepared by Rene in a corner. But, ceasing his fretful pacing to and fro, he sat down in the arm-chair by the hearth where she had sat -- the waif of the sea -- wrapped round him the cloak that had enfolded the young body, hugging himself in the salt moisture the fur still retained, to spend the long hours in half-waking, firelight dreams.