This was on the second day after Margaret's death, and Bowker yet postponed the execution of his task. On the third day, however, he set out for Elm Lodge and found Geoffrey in the dining-room. The servant who admitted Mr. Bowker said, in reply to his inquiry, that "master was better certainly, but poor and peaky; did not take much notice of what went on, and were quite off his food." Geoffrey's looks certainly bore out the handmaiden's account. His cheeks were thin and hollow; there were great circles round his eyes; his flesh was tight and yellow; his hands so fallen away that they looked like mere anatomical preparations. He looked up as Bowker entered, and the ghost of his old smile hovered round his lips.
"So you've come at last, William, after failing in your troth these three days, eh?" said he. "What kept you, old friend?"
Bowker was not prepared for any questions. He had gone through all this scene in his mind more than once; but in his rehearsal it was always he who commenced the subject; and this order not being followed, he was rather taken aback.
"I have been particularly engaged," he said. "You know, Geoff, that I should not have missed coming to you otherwise; but--it was impossible."
"Was it?" said Geoffrey, raising his head quietly, and stedfastly regarding him with his bright eyes; "was it on my business that you were engaged?"
"It was," said Bowker. He knew at that moment that his friend had guessed the truth.
"Then," said Geoffrey, "Margaret is dead!" He said it without altering the inflection of his voice, without removing his eyes from his friend's face. Scarcely inquiringly he said it, apparently convinced of the fact; and he took Bowker's silence for an affirmative, and rose and walked towards the window, supporting himself by the wall as he went. Bowker left him there by himself for a few minutes, and then, going up to him and laying his hand affectionately on his shoulder, said, "Geoff!"
Geoff's head was averted, but his hand sought Bowker's, and pressed it warmly.
"Geoff, dear old Geoff,--my old friend of many happy years,--you must bear up in this hour of trial. Think of it, dear old fellow. God knows, I'm one of the worst in the world to preach content and submission, and all that; but think of it: it is the--you know I wouldn't hurt your feelings Geoff--the best thing that, under all the circumstances, could have occurred."
"Ive lost her, William--lost her whom I loved better than my heart's blood, whom I so prized and cherished and worshipped--lost her for ever--ah, my God, for ever!" And the strong man writhed in his agony, and burying his head in his arms, burst into tears.