"Two."
"Is she as beautiful as ever!"
"More so, I think."
"I dare say you're right; you ought to know best, certainly."
"You shall judge for yourself. She is in London at this moment."
"Tom!" says his father, who has been sitting quietly, his face covered in his handkerchief, listening to all, while holy tears of gratitude steal down his face.
"Sir!"
"You have not spoken to Grace yet!"
"Grace?" cries Tom, in a very different tone from that in which he had yet spoken.
"Grace Harvey, my boy. She was in the room when you came in."