"But that is not the worst of it."
"What do you mean, Mr. Glascock?"
"I mean that his mind is astray, and that he should not be left alone. There is no knowing what he might do. He is so much more alone there than he would be in England. There is not a soul who could interfere."
"Do you mean that you think—that he is in danger—from himself?"
"I would not say so, Mrs. Trevelyan; but who can tell? I am sure of this,—that he should not be left alone. If it were only because of the misery of his life, he should not be left alone."
"But what can I do? He would not even see papa."
"He would see you."
"But he would not let me guide him in anything. I have been to him twice, and he breaks out,—as if I were—a bad woman."
"Let him break out. What does it matter?"
"Am I to own to a falsehood,—and such a falsehood?"