“Well then, I will come.”
“Is Madame Jacobus back in New York yet?”
“She is in London.”
“But why in London?”
“That, I know not. Two reasons I can suppose, but which is right, or if either be right, that is beyond my certainty.”
“Is her sister-in-law dead?”
“She is dead. Her husband was an Englishman; perhaps then it is about some property in England she has gone. If it is not that, of nothing else can I think but Captain Jacobus. But my sister Angelica had ever two ways—nothing at all she would say about her money or her business; but constantly, to every one, she would talk of her husband. I think then it is money or property that has taken her to England. For if it had been Jacobus, to the whole town she would have told it.” Then he took both Cornelia’s hands in his, and looking at her earnestly said—
“Poor Rem! Impossible is it?”
“Quite impossible, sir,” she answered.
“When he got thy letter refusing his love and offer, he went to Boston. I think he will not come back to me. I am very sorry,” he said simply, and he let her hands drop.