"Yes, I have lost something," he said, with a little sigh. "I don't exactly know what it is--but it's something. I shall find it again one of these days, I do not doubt."
His voice was full of pathos as he spoke. Gerald never mentioned the subject again.
"Now that you are settled for some time to come, I presume that you will not be long before you break the news to Eleanor? You must remember that as yet she knows absolutely nothing."
So spoke Miss Bellamy to Ambrose Murray one evening across the tea-table. Gerald was also there. This was the first time that Eleanor's name had been mentioned since Murray's arrival, and Miss Bellamy could bear the father's strange silence no longer.
"It is not my intention to tell my daughter anything at present. Why should I?" said Murray.
Miss Bellamy looked at him as though she could scarcely believe her ears.
"Why should you not?" she said. "It seems to me that one of the very first things you ought to do is to tell everything to your only child."
Murray stirred his tea slowly for a few moments before answering.
"Eleanor is well and comfortable, I hope," he said at last.
"Quite well and quite comfortable."