“‘And all that time I was going from city to city with my husband, leaving always directions where my letters should be forwarded, and hoping always to hear from you.’ “‘Ah, well, my dear, we were at cross-purposes without knowing it. The summer came, but brought no increase of health to my poor wife. She grew worse, and my great anxiety on her account began to absorb all my thoughts. I ceased even to look for a letter from England.’ “‘I understand, dear father; the present and real calamity dulled your sensibilities to imaginary troubles.’ “‘In a measure and for a time; but at length I wrote to the steward at Weirdwaste to ask why I did not hear from you or your teachers. But, ah! before there was time for an answer to return my poor wife died, and I got ready to bring her remains to England.’ “‘My dear father!’ “‘I took the casket first to Enderby, where, having been previously embalmed, it lay in state in the drawing room. The funeral was advertised for the eighth day after the arrival of the body, and I used the interval in going quietly down to Liverpool and taking steamer to Ireland en route for Weirdwaste, to fetch my daughter on to Enderby for the funeral. It was at Weirdwaste that the news of your marriage first met me.’ “‘Oh, father! But you have pardoned me! And so they knew nothing of it at Enderby?’ “‘No, my dear. Consider the remoteness of each of these seats from the busy world, and their distance from each other—Enderby on the northwest coast of Northumberland—Weirdwaste on the west coast of Ireland. No, my dear, no hint of your marriage had reached Enderby, nor would it ever have reached Weirdwaste but for one circumstance.’ “‘And that, my father?’ “‘Was the fact of your oldest governess, Miss Murray, having left a portion of her effects at Weirdwaste. The old lady wrote to the steward, telling him of your sudden marriage, and of the consequent cessation of her services, and requesting him to forward her effects—of which she inclosed a list—to a certain address in London. Though the steward and the housekeeper both wrote to the governess—when they sent her boxes—imploring her to give them more particulars of their beloved young lady, she gave them none, merely saying in the letter in which she acknowledged the receipt of her property that you had married and had gone away—more than that she said she knew nothing.’ “I bowed my head in sorrow. I realized what my dear, stricken father must have felt to hear such news at such a time. But I know he never, even in thought, reproached me.