‘I don’t know how long it may be called out. If it were but possible to make a fresh beginning.’
‘Did you hear of my brother’s suggestion?’
‘I wish—but it is useless to talk about that. I could not presume to ask my father for a commission—Heaven knows when I shall dare to speak to him!’
‘You have not personally asked his pardon after full confession.’
‘N-o—Mrs. Kendal knows all.’
‘Did you ever do such a thing in your life?’
‘You don’t know what my father is.’
‘Neither do you, Gilbert. Let that be the first token of sincerity.’
Without leaving space for another word, Mr. Ferrars went through the conservatory into the garden, where, meeting the children, he took the little one in his arms, and sent Maurice to fetch his mamma. Albinia came down, looking so much heated and harassed, that he was grieved to leave her.
‘Oh, Maurice, I am sorry! You always come in for some catastrophe,’ she said, trying to smile. ‘You have had a most forlorn morning.’