She paused a moment before she said quietly, "As you saw Dick grow up years ago."
His sunny vision was clouded. He frowned. "We must make up our minds to do without Dick," he said; "he won't come here. He has practically thrown us off."
"No," she said. "I have seen him, and he is coming here on Friday."
He stared at her, the frown still on his face. He was moved by her news, but not altogether to pleasure. His mind was running on new desires, and it was an effort to adjust it to old ones.
"You've seen him?" he said. "What did you say to him? You didn't make him think that I was going to give way?"
"No. He does not expect that, or, I think, hope for it now."
"Is he going to give way, then?"
"No. Not that, either. He is going to be married very soon."
"Then what does he want to come here for? I won't receive that woman, whether he marries her or not. And if he marries her I'll disinherit him as far as I'm able to. I don't go back from my word. If he thinks he's going to turn me—if he's coming here with that idea—he'd better stop away."
"He doesn't think that," said Mrs. Clinton. "I don't think he will want to speak of anything that has been between you. He knows, and he has made up his mind to it. Don't you want to see him, Edward? He is coming because he wants to see you."