Georgia did not speak.
"Mrs. Wildair," he said, calmly, "will it please you to reply? I am accustomed to be answered when I speak."
"Oh, Richmond, don't ask me. How can I help it? I tried to like your mother, but—"
Her voice choked, and she stopped.
He went over, and lifted the face she had covered with her hands, and looked into it with a smile.
"But you failed. You did not understand each other. Well, never mind, Georgia; you will like each other better by and by. You will have to do so, as she is going to live with us altogether."
"What!"
"My dear, be calm. How intensely excitable you are! Certainly, she will live here: she is all alone now, you know—she and my cousin; and is it not natural that this should be their home?"
"Your cousin, too?"
"Of course. Why, Georgia, you might have known it. They are my only relatives, for he who was once my brother is dead to us all. Georgia, is it possible you hate my mother and cousin?"