“Alone?”
“I have no one, so I must be alone! Mr. Rankin says that all the business formalities will be completed this week, and there will be nothing to keep me. Mrs. Norton, the housekeeper at Starden, says the house is all ready, so I thought of going down at the beginning of next week!”
“Alone?” the old man repeated.
“Since I am alone, I must go alone.”
“My dear, I am an old fellow, and likely to be in the way, but if—my society—would—”
Joan smiled, and the smile transfigured her. It brought tenderness and sweetness to the young face that adversity had somewhat hardened.
“No, I won’t be selfish, dear,” she said gently. “You would hate it; you are at home here, and you have all you want. There you would be unhappy and uncomfortable; but I do thank you very, very gratefully.”
“But you can’t go alone, child. Why bless me, there’s my niece Helen Everard. She’s a widow, her husband’s people live close to Starden at Buddesby. If only for a time, let me arrange with her to go with you.”
“If you like,” she said.
“I’ll write to her at once,” the General said, and Joan nodded, little dreaming what the sending of that letter might mean to her.