“Don’t—tell—her.”
It was with a sort of ghastly composure that she leant over him, saying, “Don’t be afraid, my dear, I am ready to hear it.”
He raised himself, and gazed at her in perplexity and wonder. Henrietta’s violently throbbing heart took from her almost the perception of what was happening.
“Take breath, Willy,” said his father; “don’t keep us all anxious.”
“Bee said I was to tell Uncle Geoffrey,” said the boy.
“Is she safe?” asked Aunt Mary, earnestly.
“Yes.”
“Thanks to God,” said she, holding out her hand to Uncle Geoffrey, with a look of relief and congratulation, and yet of inexpressible mournfulness which went to his heart.
“And Fred?” said Uncle Roger.
“Do not ask, Roger,” said she, still as calmly as before; “I always knew how it would be.”