“She knows that you were not in town. She went to your hotel at once to apprize you of the loss of your child——”
“She did! Drusilla did that!” exclaimed Alexander, interrupting him.
“Yes, she did—within an hour after the discovery was made, and——-”
“Bless her! bless her!” fervently ejaculated Alexander.
—“She was told that you had left town for Southampton. I think she received the impression that you had sailed for America.”
“I am very glad of that. But is it not strange that she did not see that ill-natured paragraph in the papers referring to the——”
“Not at all. The paragraph in question was in but one day’s issue, and that was the day she was in her greatest agony about her child; and besides, she never has looked at paper or book since her heavy loss. She has done nothing but pray and search, as I said before.”
“Poor child! poor child! Dick, tell her nothing of me. I do not wish that she shall see me, or hear from me, until I bring her the child. But give my love and thanks to my uncle, and tell him what I am about. But here comes the waiter.”
Breakfast was brought in and arranged upon the table, and the friends drew up to it.
Alexander ate nothing, but he drank down in quick succession about six cups of coffee; for “sorrow is dry,” just as surely as if the drunkards had never said it was, and made it an excuse for more drinking.