“Going? Where?” he replied dreamily.
“On the Continent for our change.”
“We shall not go on the Continent, Marguerite,” he said gravely. “I shall not think of leaving here.”
Aunt Marguerite rose from the table, and gazed at her brother, as if not sure that she had heard aright. Then she turned to her niece, to gaze at her with questioning eyes, but to gain no information there, for Louise gazed down at the work she had taken from a stand.
“Did you understand what your father said?” she asked sharply.
“Yes, aunt.”
“And pray what did he say?”
“That he would not go on the Continent.”
“What?”
“That he would not leave home with this terrible weight upon his mind.”