“That was mooted between my colleagues and me.”
“Professor Hodson, I fear—indeed, I know—I shall never see my son alive or dead again. I live but to mourn for him. I live but to repent the harsh words that drove him from my door—from our door—my boy’s and mine. To see his poor pet dog following him with downcast head; to see even the bird fly away; I— Oh, Professor Hodson!”
Here, woman-like, the poor lady burst into tears, and the tender-hearted professor feels very much inclined to follow suit.
“We may find him yet?”
“Oh! is there a hope, a chance?”
“There is, and we can but try. We have thought of fitting out a yacht.”
“There is his yacht—his own yacht. Take it, and welcome. If not strong enough, do everything for her. And, professor, all the expense must be mine. And I, too, will sail in her in search of my boy.”
“Your ladyship, I—”
“Deny me not. I will not be denied.”
“Your ladyship little knows the danger—”