‘No, I suppose not,’ he said, though without any conviction; but it was perhaps injudicious of her to add, though with the best intentions, ‘There is one great consolation on your side, that it cannot be for very long: that must soften every parting. At an advanced age----’ Mr. Sandford sat very upright in his chair. ‘I don’t see the certainty of that,’ he said, with some briskness. ‘It may be or it may not be, no one can say for certain either at seventy or at forty. Many a younger man may die before me----’ ‘That is quite true,’ Mrs. Egerton said, and the strain of her condolence and consolatory remarks was stemmed. She was silent for a moment, and then added, ‘But you are not left quite solitary in your trouble. You have a daughter with you, I hear.’ ‘Yes, there’s Emily,’ he said. ‘She has not come to see you since you’ve been here. I was not sure you had any children--alive.’ ‘Oh! yes, there’s Emily,’ repeated the old man. ‘And I hope she will be able to remain with you and take care of you.’ ‘Oh, dear, no!’ he said, sitting up in his chair. ‘Emily--couldn’t stay. Oh, no! It was a chance her being able to get away at all. She is going, I think, to-morrow.’ ‘It must have been dreadfully sad for her--to arrive too late?’ The old man shuffled in his chair. ‘Emily--is not just like--any other person. She is not young, you know--not like a young girl--her eldest child is quite grown up, and--then there is John----’ ‘Is she John’s mother, then?’ cried Mrs. Egerton, in surprise. ‘Well, you know--’ said old Mr. Sandford, and paused--‘she has been a long time away. She is kept very close by her engagements, and she never was a great letter-writer. My poor wife and me were glad to know just that she was well. What happened besides we didn’t--hear much about---- ’ ‘But John?’ said Mrs. Egerton, quite bewildered by this speech. There was an air about the speaker of having explained all that was asked him, and this confused his questioner: though she said to herself after the first moment that John--was not an incident that could have passed without remark. Besides, John had been with them all these years--presumably before the period at which their daughter had been withdrawn from their view. ‘Emily is not at all an ordinary person,’ Mr. Sandford said: and then he added, ‘You have been away a long time, Mrs. Egerton, for you. My poor dear would have liked to say “Good-bye.”’ She felt that he was thus directing her away from a dangerous subject, and she was more than ever curious and anxious to know. ‘I am very sorry I happened to be absent. I would have come home had I known how ill she was. And probably I could have been of use in sending for your daughter in time.’ ‘Don’t disturb yourself about that,’ he said. ‘She was sent for, but could not come. And then we telegraphed, not knowing how near it was. They must all be very glad at the rectory to have you back.’