‘My dear young lady,’ said Glastonbury, but his voice faltered as he added, ‘we have had great unhappiness.’
‘I regret it,’ said Henrietta. ‘You had a marriage, I believe, expected in your family?’
‘It has not occurred,’ said Glastonbury.
‘Indeed!’
‘Alas! madam,’ said her companion, ‘if I might venture indeed to speak of one whom I will not name, and yet——-’
‘Pray speak, sir,’ said Miss Temple, in a kind, yet hushed voice.
‘The child of our affections, madam, is not what he was. God, in His infinite mercy, has visited him with great afflictions.’
‘You speak of Captain Armine, sir?’
‘I speak indeed of my broken-hearted Ferdinand; I would I could say yours. O Miss Temple, he is a wreck.’ ‘Yes! yes!’ said Henrietta in a low tone.
‘What he has endured,’ continued Glastonbury, ‘passes all description of mine. His life has indeed been spared, but under circumstances that almost make me regret he lives.’