The lady was half asleep, but she started up instantly on hearing these words. "O, Edgar, will you really go?" she said.
"I think I must try to do so," said her husband.
"And then we can make further inquiries about—about our darling Milly," said the lady, the tears welling up to her eyes as she spoke.
"Yes, my dear, we can, certainly; but we must not be too sanguine about the result. Even if a child was saved from the wreck, it might not be ours. And then some years have passed since, and so many things might happen in two or three years."
"Yes, many things," said the lady, meditatively; "but still I feel sure my child is living somewhere. O, I wonder where she can be?"
The major shook his head. He had often heard his wife express this same strong feeling; but his own faith in ever seeing his child again was well-nigh gone now. He had hoped, almost against hope, until the present time; but now that another mail had come in, bringing him no intelligence whatever, this hope had died out.
"I think I shall write to Mr. Mansfield at once," said Major Ferrers, after a few minutes silence.
"And you will tell him we are coming to England to search for our little girl?" said his wife.
"Yes, I think I must tell him all about it; for his letter is so different from anything I could ever have expected from him, that I feel bound to write as friendly as possible, and this will be something to tell him—something to write about."
"How soon can we leave India, do you think?" asked the lady, as her husband arose from his seat.