"No, but pray listen! I wish to justify myself in your eyes. The truth is, I was in the act of packing my valise to return to Oldchester when a telegram reached me, saying that my father's danger was imminent. I was in Yorkshire, in a country house, where there was but one postal delivery a day. Letters were often delayed, and, in fact, my father's letter had preceded the telegram only by a few hours."
"Oh, how sad! I am so sorry for you!" cried May, clasping her hands. She felt some generous compunction for having done him injustice.
"Yes; I have lost a good father," said Theodore.
"You have, indeed. And what a loss is Mrs. Bransby's!"
A subtle change came over his face, although he did not seem to move a muscle, and he made no answer.
"How is she?" asked May, leaning forward eagerly.
Theodore's eyebrows took their old supercilious curve, as he replied, "Mrs. Bransby? Oh, she's quite well, I believe."
"Believe! Have you not seen her lately?"
"Oh yes; I have seen her. She appeared perfectly well. I did not at first quite take in the sense of your question; but I see now what you meant. Every one has not such keen sensibilities as you, May."
Even this familiar use of her name she let pass, although it jarred upon her.