“But why,” said Richard—“why should you wish to distress him?”
“Because I cannot bear that he should be deceived, and should feed on false hopes. Do you think it right, Richard?”
“I will write to him, if you like,” said Richard; “but I think he must pretty well know the truth from all the letters to Harry and to himself.”
“It would be so much better for him to settle his mind at once,” said Margaret.
“Perhaps he would not think so—”
There was a pause, while Margaret saw that her brother was thinking. At last he said, “Margaret, will you pardon me? I do think that this is a little restlessness. The truth has not been kept from him, and I do not see that we are called to force it on him. He is sensible and reasonable, and will know how to judge when he comes home.”
“It was to try to save him the pang,” murmured Margaret.
“Yes; but it will be worse far away than near. I do not mean that we should conceal the fact, but you have no right to give him up before he comes home. The whole engagement was for the time of his voyage.”
“Then you think I ought not to break it off before his return?”
“Certainly not.”