"Let us send for William. Perhaps he'll be able to advise us."
William was Major Forsyth, the brother of Mrs. Parsons. He was a bachelor, living in London, and considered by his relatives a typical man of the world.
"He'll be able to talk to the boy better than we can."
"Very well, let us send for him."
They were both overcome by the catastrophe, but as yet hardly grasped the full extent of it. All their hopes had been centred on this marriage; all their plans for the future had been in it so intricately woven that they could not realise the total over-throw. They felt as a man might feel who was crippled by a sudden accident, and yet still pictured his life as though he had free use of his limbs.... Mrs. Parsons wrote a telegram, and gave it to the maid. The servant went out of the room, but as she did so, stepped back and announced:
"Miss Clibborn, ma'am."
"Mary!"
The girl came in, and lifted the veil which she had put on to hide her pallor and her eyes, red and heavy with weeping.
"I thought I'd better come round and see you quietly," she said. "I suppose you've heard?"
"Mary, Mary!"