She was unable to speak, and could only lift her eyes to the face of this great man, who, notwithstanding the weight of anxiety and responsibility pressing upon him, had been the one to smooth away the troubles which had threatened to mar her young life, and who had now brought about the desire of her heart.
But his kindly look at length gave her courage, and she managed to say, although chokingly, "I can never find words in which to thank you, sir."
He bowed as the three left the room, and no word was spoken while they took their way down the hall to Dorothy's apartment.
Jack opened the door and motioned the others to enter.
"I must leave you now," he said, "and go to see Hugh Knollys. He is not feeling just right to-night."
"Why, is he ill? I wondered that he was not at supper with us." Dorothy spoke quickly, her voice trembled, and her brother saw that she was weeping.
He followed them into the room and closed the door. Then he turned to Dot, and taking her by the hand, asked tenderly, "What is troubling you, my dear child?"
She gave a great sob and threw herself upon his breast.
"'T is because of what he just said—as we left him. It made me realize that I am soon to go away across the sea from you—from all of you," she exclaimed passionately. "Oh—how can I bear it!"
"'T is somewhat late, little sister, to think of that," her brother replied, caressing her curly head with the loving touch she had known ever since the childhood days. Then bending his lips close to her ear, he whispered, "See—you are making him unhappy."