And Dr. Lavendar turned upon him in solemn anger. "Your opportunity is gone—so far as she is concerned. There yet remains, however, the poor, foolish sinner whom she loved—"
"Damn him!" said Alex.
"—and who loved her."
Old Mr. Gordon dropped his face in his hands and groaned.
"Who loved her," Dr. Lavendar repeated.
"For that, at least, he cannot be indifferent to us, whatever he has made us suffer."
Neither of his listeners spoke. It was growing dark in the long room, walled to the ceiling with books and lighted only by a fire sputtering in the grate. Mr. Gordon, sitting in his big, winged chair close to the hearth, said, after a long pause: "You said—to-morrow, Edward? Where?"
"In Mercer. I shall go up on the morning stage."
Again the silence fell. Alex got up and walked to the window and looked out. "Why didn't you bring Danny in, Dr. Lavendar?" he said, carelessly; "the little brute will freeze out there in your buggy. I'll call him in." He turned to leave the room, and then stopped.
"Alexander, sit down," said Dr. Lavendar.