“What?”
“Her sweetheart. He is dead.”
“Why, how can that be? And who says so?”
“That is the news.”
“Well, it is a falsehood!” said Mr. Meadows, coolly.
“I wish to Heaven it might,” whispered old Merton, “for she won't live long after him.”
Mr. Meadows then told Merton that he had spoken with a man who had got news of George Fielding not four months old, and he was in very good health.
“Will you tell Susan this?”
“Certainly.”
Susan was called down. Meadows started at the sight of her. She was pale and hollow-eyed, and in these few days seemed ten years older. She was dressed all in black. “I am a murderer!” thought he. And remorse without one grain of honest repentance pierced his heart.