“Remember mamma.”
He bent down and kissed her on the forehead.
“Don’t ask me to be weak, Margaret. I have been to see him twice at the gaol. I found him walled up in his pride. He gave me no sign of regret for what he’d done, and all the woe he’s caused us. I am waiting only for one word from him to be ready to forgive him, yet we exchanged only a few insignificant remarks.”
“When I go to see him he cries about mother with me. He doesn’t dare with you.”
“It’s his place to speak first. I shall wait.”
Margaret could not see, with her head bent, the sweetly sad look that spread over his old face, and softened the severity of his words. She repeated:
“He feels very badly. He’s unhappy.”
“And aren’t we?” asked Mr. Roquevillard.
He raised the girl’s head gently.
“What have you been doing this afternoon, Margaret?” he asked in his turn, changing the subject.