‘It must have been dreadfully sad for her—to arrive too late?’
The old man shuffled in his chair.
‘Emily—is not just like—any other person. She is not young, you know—not like a young girl—her eldest child is quite grown up, and—then there is John——’
‘Is she John’s mother, then?’ cried Mrs. Egerton, in surprise.
‘Well, you know—’ said old Mr. Sandford, and paused—‘she has been a long time away. She is kept very close by her engagements, and she never was a great letter-writer. My poor wife and me were glad to know just that she was well. What happened besides we didn’t—hear much about—— ’
‘But John?’ said Mrs. Egerton, quite bewildered by this speech. There was an air about the speaker of having explained all that was asked him, and this confused his questioner: though she said to herself after the first moment that John—was not an incident that could have passed without remark. Besides, John had been with them all these years—presumably before the period at which their daughter had been withdrawn from their view.
‘Emily is not at all an ordinary person,’ Mr. Sandford said: and then he added, ‘You have been away a long time, Mrs. Egerton, for you. My poor dear would have liked to say “Good-bye.”’
She felt that he was thus directing her away from a dangerous subject, and she was more than ever curious and anxious to know.
‘I am very sorry I happened to be absent. I would have come home had I known how ill she was. And probably I could have been of use in sending for your daughter in time.’
‘Don’t disturb yourself about that,’ he said. ‘She was sent for, but could not come. And then we telegraphed, not knowing how near it was. They must all be very glad at the rectory to have you back.’