Mrs. Clifton entered the room, and seated herself quietly. She bowed slightly, but did not, as usual, offer her hand. But, full of his own plans, Mr. Somerville took no note of this change in her manner.
"How long is it since Ida was lost?" inquired Somerville, abruptly.
Mrs. Clifton heard this question in surprise. Why was it that he had alluded to this subject?
"Seven years," she answered.
"And you believe she yet lives?"
"Yes, I am certain of it."
John Somerville did not understand her. He thought it was only because a mother is reluctant to give up hope.
"It is a long time," he said.
"It is—a long time to suffer," said Mrs. Clifton, with deep meaning. "How could anyone have the heart to work me this great injury? For seven years I have led a sad and solitary life—seven years that might have been gladdened and cheered by my darling's presence!"
There was something in her tone that puzzled John Somerville, but he was far enough from suspecting that she knew the truth, and at last knew him too.