"It isn't liking, my dear. Of course you have to live with your husband. Isn't this sad about Everett?"
"Very sad. But Everett hasn't lived here for ever so long."
"I don't know why he shouldn't. He was a fool to go away when he did. Does he go to you?"
"Yes;—sometimes."
"And what does he say?"
"I'm sure he would be with you at once if you would ask him."
"I have asked him. I've sent word by Lopez over and over again. If he means that I am to write to him and say that I'm sorry for offending him, I won't. Don't talk of him any more. It makes me so angry that I sometimes feel inclined to do things which I know I should repent when dying."
"Not anything to injure Everett, papa!"
"I wonder whether he ever thinks that I am an old man and all alone, and that his brother-in-law is daily with me. But he's a fool, and thinks of nothing. I know it is very sad being here night after night by myself." Mr. Wharton forgot, no doubt, at the moment, that he passed the majority of his evenings at the Eldon,—though, had he been reminded of it, he might have declared with perfect truth that the delights of his club were not satisfactory.
"Papa," said Emily, "would you like us to come and live here?"