"Which of us would? It would be splendid. Can't you speak?" to Sue. "You are such a slow coach,—and surely you might have broken loose before, when you knew we were waiting."
"You have been nearly an hour;" Sybil glanced at the clock.
"We thought you might have called us in," added Maud.
"Anyhow, do for heaven's sake let us have it out now," continued Sybil impetuously. She had been giving little tweaks at the letter in her sister's hand, and a faint apprehension crept into her accents as she found it firmly withheld; "and don't look so owl-like. There is nothing to be owl-like about, I suppose?"
Hitherto neither had noted Sue's expression; now for the first time they simultaneously paused long enough to enable her to open her lips.
"I am afraid you will be disappointed," she said slowly. "I am so sorry to tell you, but—but things are not as you suppose. Poor Godfrey——" she paused.
"Poor Godfrey, well, poor Godfrey?"
Both exclaimed at once, and each alike made a movement of impatience.
"He had been very unfortunate of late. He had—speculated. He——"
"We don't care twopence about him, get on."