‘No, I suppose not,’ he said, though without any conviction; but it was perhaps injudicious of her to add, though with the best intentions,
‘There is one great consolation on your side, that it cannot be for very long: that must soften every parting. At an advanced age——’
Mr. Sandford sat very upright in his chair.
‘I don’t see the certainty of that,’ he said, with some briskness. ‘It may be or it may not be, no one can say for certain either at seventy or at forty. Many a younger man may die before me——’
‘That is quite true,’ Mrs. Egerton said, and the strain of her condolence and consolatory remarks was stemmed. She was silent for a moment, and then added, ‘But you are not left quite solitary in your trouble. You have a daughter with you, I hear.’
‘Yes, there’s Emily,’ he said.
‘She has not come to see you since you’ve been here. I was not sure you had any children—alive.’
‘Oh! yes, there’s Emily,’ repeated the old man.
‘And I hope she will be able to remain with you and take care of you.’
‘Oh, dear, no!’ he said, sitting up in his chair. ‘Emily—couldn’t stay. Oh, no! It was a chance her being able to get away at all. She is going, I think, to-morrow.’