She went away then, and this time he did not call her back.
After this Clarice read the Bible diligently to her father. At first she chose the portions she thought most likely to be useful, but after a few days he began to ask for this or that part, which he wished to hear. But he only listened in silence—he spoke to her no more. Every day he became more gentle and patient; more grateful to them all for the kindness and tenderness which he felt was so undeserved. But his natural reserve and his long habit of silence were not to be overcome now. Therefore it was a great happiness to Clarice, indeed to all of them, when he asked Aymer to invite the Rector of E— to visit him, which that gentleman did regularly from that time.
Time slipped by. Mr. Egerton made no rally. The hard-earned savings were melting away, in spite of Helen's economy. The "beloved bag" would soon be quite empty. Yet not even Aymer complained, though he often wondered sadly what he was to do when he should be left penniless with two young children to support, and Helen, homeless.
One day Mr. Egerton said to Clarice, "I want you to write a letter for me, my dear, and tell Aymer to come here, that he may hear what I say."
Clarice obeyed, and was soon ready to write.
Mr. Egerton's weak voice began:
"'My dear father.'
"Have you written that, Clarice?"
"Yes, papa."
"And, Aymer, you are attending? Go on now, my dear.