"Yes."
"Mr. Digby, mightn't you be mistaken?"
"Rotha, might not you? And would it not be more likely?"
Rotha began to reflect that in her past life she had not been wont to give such unbounded trust to anybody; not even to her father, and not certainly to her mother. She had sometimes thought them mistaken; how could she help that? and how could she help it in any other case, if circumstances warranted it? But with the thought of her mother, tears rose again, and she did not speak. Just then Mrs. Cord came in.
"O I am glad you are there, sir!" she began. "I wanted to speak to you, if you please."
Mr. Digby unclosed his arm from about Rotha, and she withdrew quietly to her former station by the window. The other two went into the adjoining room, and there Mrs. Cord received instruction and information as to various points of the arrangements for the next few days.
"And what will I do with Rotha, sir?" she asked finally.
"Do with her? In what respect?"
"She won't eat, sir."
"She will, I fancy, the next time it is proposed to her."