‘Then there ought to have been something, Cara. One sees what Edward feels, poor boy, and I am very sorry for him. And it is hard upon him--hard upon us all to be so treated. Young people ought to be honest in these matters. Yes, dear, it is quite true. I am not pleased. I have not been pleased ever since----’ ‘Aunt Cherry,’ said the girl, her face crimson, her eyes full of tears, ‘why do you upbraid me now--is this the moment? As if I were not unhappy enough. What does Edward feel? Does _he_ too expect me to tell him of something that does not exist?’ ‘Poor Edward! All I can say is, that if we are unhappy, he is unhappy too, and unhappier than either you or me, for he is----. Poor boy; but he is young and he will get over it,’ said Miss Cherry with a deep sigh. ‘Oh, hush! hush! but tell me of him--hush!’ said Cara, eagerly; ‘I hear him coming up the stairs.’ There was someone certainly coming up stairs, but it was not Edward’s youthful footstep, light and springy. It was a heavier and slower tread. They listened, somewhat breathless, being thus stopped in an interesting discussion, and wondered at the slow approach of these steps. At last the door opened slowly, and Mr. Beresford, with some letters in his hand, came into the room. He came quite up to them before he said anything. The envelope which he held in his hand seemed to have contained both the open letters which he carried along with it, and one of them had a black edge. He was still running his eyes over this as he entered the room. ‘I think,’ he said, standing with his hand upon Cara’s table, at the place where Edward usually sat, ‘that you had better stop your packing for the moment. An unfortunate event has happened, and I do not think now that I can go away--not so soon at least; it would be heartless, it would be unkind!’ ‘What is it?’ cried Miss Cherry, springing to her feet. ‘Oh, James, not any bad news from the Hill?’ ‘No, no; nothing that concerns us. The fact is,’ said Mr. Beresford, gazing into the dim depths of the mirror and avoiding their eyes, ‘Mr. Meredith, the father of the boys, has just died in India. The news has come only to-day.’ CHAPTER XXXI. THE HOUSE OF MOURNING.