"The intelligence seems new to you. And it has been well for you that he imagines the child was drowned. There was question in Gerald’s gaze as it met hers, and apology in his voice. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. His bodily suffering, however, was nothing compared with his mental anguish. To-night all this may seem hard and cruel. He had been gone entirely one day, for yesterday afternoon he had departed from Remenham House, and she had waited with patience like a saint, and now it was again the afternoon.
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