“True, true. I will go! Everything is packed. A few hours, and the steamer sails. In that time we shall be separated, perhaps for years, brother.”
“No, no, I will join you.”
“You have a weary search first. I have tried it.”
“Not as I shall, with coolness and decision. You were too much interested. Trust me.”
“I do, in all things.”
“And you will go to-night.”
“Yes, to-night,” was the mournful answer.
“Have you taken leave of Madame?”
“No; when I called at her room, a few days since, she was gone. Somewhere in the country the people below stairs told me, and might not be back for months.”
“It is strange,” said George; “her life, I find, has become utterly degraded. The den which she inhabits is the most poverty-stricken place I ever saw. She seemed greatly annoyed at seeing me, and refused all conversation. The most that I could obtain from her was complaints of your undutifulness and prodigality.”