On the evening of the same day Aaron and Rachel were alone in their house in Prince's Gate. Rose had taken her leave of them, and she and her father were traveling to Portsmouth, Mr. Moss with a heavy heart; he was older than Aaron, and was not so courageous in the hour of adversity.
"What makes you so melancholy, father?" said Rose.
"When you reach my age, Rose," he replied, "I hope you will not discover that life is a dream."
The remark seemed to him rather fine and philosophical, but had he been asked to explain its precise meaning he would have found it difficult.
"I hope I shall, father," said Rose as she leaned back and thought of her lover; "a happy dream."
"I am glad to get back to you and to our dear home," Rachel was saying to her husband at the same moment. "You must never send me away again. Indeed, dear Aaron, if you intend it I shall for once in my life be rebellious, and shall refuse to go."
She spoke tenderly and playfully, and held his hand in hers, as in the olden days.
"Nevertheless, my love, your short visit to the seaside has done you good."
"Yes, dear, I am almost well; I feel much stronger."
"There is the justification," said Aaron. "I am not happy away from you, but there are occasions when it is our duty to make sacrifices. This is the longest separation there has been between us in the twenty-six years of our married life."