"Shall I go, too?" asked Ada, timidly.
"Not at present: if there is to be a storm, I do not see why you should be in it."
"He is such a dreadful old man, is he not?"
"Not usually; he was always very, very kind to Arthur."
"Not to his wife," she replied, vainly endeavoring to repress her tears.
"No, very cruel; but you must not grieve so much about it, dearest Ada."
"I cannot help it, it is so terribly shocking."
"But it is past, now: she is at rest, she is happy; even her lifeless remains look calm—the weary, weary look exchanged for one of peace."
"True, but it is so dreadful; if we had only known before," she sobbed.
"I wish we had, with all my soul," returned Charles, "but you really must not distress yourself so, or I shall have to keep the poor old gent waiting."