"Us, Nora! Who are the us? But in no way would that be possible. Papa will be here, perhaps, for six months." Nora thought it quite possible that she might have a home of her own before six months were passed,—even though she might be wheeling the smaller barrow,—but she would not say so. "And by that time everything must be decided."
"I suppose it must."
"Of course papa and mamma must go back," said Mrs. Trevelyan.
"Papa might take a pension. He's entitled to a pension now."
"He'll never do that as long as he can have employment. They'll go back, and I must go with them. Who else would take me in?"
"I know who would take you in, Emily."
"My darling, that is romance. As for myself, I should not care where I went. If it were even to remain here, I could bear it."
"I could not," said Nora, decisively.
"It is so different with you, dear. I don't suppose it is possible I should take my boy with me to the Islands; and how—am I—to go—anywhere—without him?" Then she broke down, and fell into a paroxysm of sobs, and was in very truth a broken-hearted woman.
Nora was silent for some minutes, but at last she spoke. "Why do you not go back to him, Emily?"