Another break. Sybella's lack of decision often showed itself in unfinished sentences. Her words ran ahead of her ideas, and had to be pulled up.
"Not Dr. Symonds?"
"No. Dr. Symonds retired lately. He has left Dulveriford. Everybody was so sorry to lose him. Dr. Ingram is a very clever man. They say he is too clever for the country, and he only came on account of his wife's health; and, poor thing, she died soon after. But we don't know him well yet. And perhaps—"
Ideas failing anew, her eyes fell upon the boy, standing shyly close to the General's knee.
"Is that a nephew of yours?"
"I have no nephews. He has been in my charge." The General spoke solemnly, an underground rumble echoing in his deep-toned voice. There is always something impressive in a voice of that description; and it is particularly well adapted for the carrying of bad news.
"I see. How kind! But you bring me news of my brother? Dearest Theodore!" she ejaculated, clasping her hands. Sybella could not help an occasional air of sentimentality. It was natural to her; or, if acquired, it had become second nature.
"Yes—"
"He is—I suppose we are to expect him by the date he named. How unfortunate that you had to come first!"
No reply.