“Yes,” said his brother; “she is gone, and so is her husband.”
“Dead! His daughter does not know.”
“No. Why tell her sooner than needful? He, at least, is no loss to his children.”
“And yet they loved him, and they ought to know.”
“They will be told when the right time comes.”
“There will be much to do. There are many documents relating to their affairs that must be looked over and arranged, and I have still so little strength.”
“My strength is yours in their cause;” said Mr Jerome.
“Brother,” said Mr St. Cyr, “why did you not tell me of poor Theresa’s death?”
“Did I not tell you? Did not Sister Agnace? You were too ill at that time to be told, I suppose. Or you have forgotten. Your memory fails you at times, I fear, my brother.”
“It may be,” said Mr St. Cyr, after a moment’s thought. “And yet I think I should not have forgotten this.”