“I am very sorry. I was not well,” was the brief reply.
He seated himself and was mute. Isabel kept up a lively conversation with the rector, till the latter declared he would be late for church, and hurriedly made off. When he had closed the door behind him, Isabel rose softly, her face all joy; Kingcote moved to meet her, and she fell upon his neck.
“You are not well, dear?”
“That was only an excuse. How well you look, my beautiful!”
“You are glad to see me again?”
“Glad and sorry, for I have bad news to tell you.”
“You too have bad news?” she said anxiously.
“I, too?”
“Come and sit by me.”
They sat side by side.