"It must be all over now," said he at last.
She did not answer him, but gazed into his face with such a look of woe that his heart was melted. She had found no argument. There had not been in the whole letter one word of love for her.
"My darling, will it not be better that we should meet the blow?"
"I have met it, all along. Some day, perhaps, he might be different."
"In what way, dearest? He does not even profess to hope so himself."
"That gentleman in London, Papa, would have paid nothing for him unless he wrote like this. He had to do it. Papa, you had better just leave me to myself. I will not trouble you by mentioning his name."
"But Emily—"
"Well, Papa?"
"Mamma and I cannot bear that you should suffer alone."
"I must suffer, and silence is the easiest. I will go now and think about it. Dear Papa, I know that you have always done everything for the best."