"No! You are not near me at this moment—you are beyond the seas!"
Godfrey had risen. He had walked a few steps without noticing Phina, and unconsciously his index finger touched one of the keys of the piano. A loud C# of the octave below the staff, a note dismal enough, answered for him.
Phina had understood him, and without more discussion was about to bring matters to a crisis, when the door of the room opened.
William W. Kolderup appeared, seemingly a little preoccupied as usual. Here was the merchant who had just finished one negotiation and was about to begin another.
"Well," said he, "there is nothing more now than for us to fix the date."
"The date?" answered Godfrey, with a start. "What date, if you please, uncle?"
"The date of your wedding!" said William W. Kolderup. "Not the date of mine, I suppose!"
"Perhaps that is more urgent?" said Phina.
"Hey?—what?" exclaimed the uncle—"what does that matter? We are only talking of current affairs, are we not?"
"Godfather Will," answered the lady. "It is not of a wedding that we are going to fix the date to-day, but of a departure."