“I did.”
“What did he say to you? Was it”—he dropped his head, and spoke half inaudibly—“Was it anything about my brother?”
Agatha marvelled, even with a sort of pain. Father, brother, every one before her! “He never named Major Harper, that I can remember. But he said”—
“What?”
Agatha drew back. How could she speak of such petty things as money and fortune then! She answered softly, and with a full heart:
“Never mind. It was a mere trifle, not worth telling, or even thinking of now. Another time.”
Nathanael regarded his wife doubtfully, but she bore the look. She was speaking the simple truth. Loss of fortune did seem “a mere trifle” now, when he was safe back again, and she sat in his presence, he talking to her as gently as in the olden time. Her simplicity in worldly things was so extreme that even Nathanael passed it over as impossible. He only said:
“Well, all must come out ere long. We cannot think of it now. Tell me more about my poor father.”
“There is little more to tell. His manner was rather strange, I thought, all dinner-time. He drank healths as usual—especially yours. His mind was wandering then, for he called you his only son. Then Mr. Grimes gave another toast—Major Harper. At that moment your father fell from his chair.”
Nathanael started up—“I knew it would be so. He could not bear such shame—my poor old father!”