William thought of a letter received a few days before, the contents of which had written the look upon his face which Mrs. Reeves had noticed, and had prompted him to ask the question he did.
"Poor Ellen!" sighed Jessie. "I fear she's not long for this world."
"What did you call her?" Mrs. Bellenger asked, and Walter replied:
"Ellen, my mother's namesake, and my cousin."
"I shall see her," returned the lady, "for I am going to Deerwood by-and-by."
William was going, too, but he would rather not meet his grandmother there, and he said to her, indifferently, as it were:
"When will you go?"
"In two or three weeks," she answered, and satisfied that she would not then interfere with him, he offered Jessie his arm a second time and walked away, hearing little of what was passing around him, and caring less, for the words "Oh, William, I am surely dying! Won't you come?" rang in his ears like a funeral knell.
For a long time Mrs. Bellenger talked with Walter, asking him at last of his father, and if any news had been heard of him.
"It does not matter," she said, when he replied in the negative. "I have outlived all that foolish pride, and love you just the same."