"It has been long to me."
"But at last you have come?"
"Did you expect me sooner? Had you not agreed with Hampstead and your father that I was not to come?"
"Never mind. You are here now. Poor papa, you know, is very ill. Perhaps I may have to go down there. John is there now."
"Is he so ill as that?"
"John went last night. We do not quite know how ill he is. He does not write, and we doubt whether we get at the truth. I was very nearly going with him; and then, sir, you would not have seen me—at all."
"Another month, another six months, another year, would have made no difference in my assurance of your truth to me."
"That is a very pretty speech for you to make."
"Nor I think in yours for me."
"I am bound, of course, to be just as pretty as you are. But why have you come now? You shouldn't have come when John had left me all alone."