She broke suddenly off with the name “Archibald;” not even to Richard could she speak of her intense love for, and happiness in her husband.
“How is it at the Grove?” he asked.
“Quite well; quite as usual. Mamma has been in better health lately. She does not know of this visit, but—”
“I must see her,” interrupted Richard. “I did not see her the last time, you remember.”
“All in good time to talk of that. How are you getting on in Liverpool? What are you doing?”
“Don’t inquire too closely, Barbara. I have no regular work, but I get a job at the docks, now and then, and rub on. It is seasonable help, that, which comes to me occasionally from you. Is it from you or Carlyle?”
Barbara laughed. “How are we to distinguish? His money is mine now, and mine is his. We don’t have separate purses, Richard; we send it to you jointly.”
“Sometimes I have fancied it came from my mother.”
Barbara shook her head. “We have never allowed mamma to know that you left London, or that we hold an address where we can write to you. It would not have done.”
“Why have you summoned me here, Barbara? What has turned up?”