“Hush; you must not feel that!” George answered. “No; there was something else;” and his eyes had a strained look of perplexity. “I cannot think without confusion.”
“It is not right for you. Please don’t try to think, father.”
George closed his eyes, and she hoped he had given up the attempt at recollection; but suddenly he looked up, almost with eagerness.
“Yes, I know now. Joan, if it is God’s will for us to part—”
“Oh, no!” broke from Joan.
“If it is his will—”
“But it isn’t—it isn’t! Please—please don’t say that!”
“It may be; you do not know yet.”
She thought he was speaking of death, and she forced a brave smile.
“You are better now, father, indeed—really better. Please don’t talk so. It does make me so wretched, and there is no need.”