The two girls let her have her way, never contradicted her, coaxed her, and tried to comfort her;--but it was in vain. At first she would not go out of the house, not even to church, and then she took to lying in bed. This lasted into the middle of January, and still Sir Thomas did not come home. He wrote frequently, short notes to Patience, sending money, making excuses, making promises, always expressing some word of hatred or disgust as to Percycross; but still he did not come. At last, when Clarissa declared that she preferred lying in bed to getting up, Patience went up to London and fetched her father home. It had gone so far with Sir Thomas now that he was unable even to attempt to defend himself. He humbly said that he was sorry that he had been away so long, and returned with Patience to the villa. "My dear," said Sir Thomas, seating himself by Clarissa's bedside, "this is very bad." "If I had known you were coming, papa, I would have got up." "If you are not well, perhaps you are better here, dear." "I don't think I am quite well, papa." "What is it, my love?" Clarissa looked at him out of her large tear-laden eyes, but said nothing. "Patience says that you are not happy." "I don't know that anybody is happy, papa." "I wish that you were with all my heart, my child. Can your father do anything that will make you happy?" "No, papa." "Tell me, Clary. You do not mind my asking you questions?" "No, papa." "Patience tells me that you are still thinking of Ralph Newton." "Of course I think of him." "I think of him too;--but there are different ways of thinking. We have known him, all of us, a long time." "Yes, papa." "I wish with all my heart that we had never seen him. He is not worthy of our solicitude." "You always liked him. I have heard you say you loved him dearly." "I have said so, and I did love him. In a certain way I love him still." "So do I, papa." "But I know him to be unworthy. Even if he had come here to offer you his hand I doubt whether I could have permitted an engagement. Do you know that within the last two months he has twice offered to marry another young woman, and I doubt whether he is not at this moment engaged to her?" "Another?" said poor Clarissa. "Yes, and that without a pretence of affection on his part, simply because he wanted to get money from her father." "Are you sure, papa?" asked Clarissa, who was not prepared to believe, and did not believe this enormity on the part of the man she loved. "I am quite sure. The father came to me to complain of him, and I had the confession from Ralph's own lips, the very day that he came here with his insulting offer to Mary Bonner." "Did you tell Mary?" "No. I knew that it was unnecessary. There was no danger as to Mary. And who do you think this girl was? The daughter of a tailor, who had made some money. It was not that he cared for her, Clary;--no more than I do! Whether he meant to marry her or not I do not know."