"See his ruin, and my unhappiness, and my baby. Oh,—oh,—oh!"
"I think so very differently, Emily, that under no circumstances will I have you taken to another home. I cannot understand much of all this yet, but I suppose I shall come to see it. If Lopez be, as you say, ruined, it is well that I have still enough for us to live on. This is a bad time just now to talk about your husband's affairs."
"I did not mean to talk about them, papa."
"What would you like best to do now,—now at once. Can you go down again to your husband's friends?"
"No;—no;—no."
"As for the dinner, never mind about that. I can't blame him for making use of my house in my absence, as far as that goes,—though I wish he could have contented himself with such a dinner as my servants could have prepared for him. I will have some tea here."
"Let me stay with you, papa, and make it for you."
"Very well, dear. I do not mean to be ashamed to enter my own dining-room. I shall, therefore, go in and make your apologies." Thereupon Mr. Wharton walked slowly forth and marched into the dining-room.
"Oh, Mr. Wharton," said Mrs. Dick, "we didn't expect you."
"Have you dined yet, sir?" asked Lopez.