He sat down to the dinner that had been hoarding for him by the fire, and when she asked him faintly what news (which was not until after a long silence), he appeared embarrassed how to answer.
‘Is it good,’ she said, ‘or bad?’ to help him.
‘Bad,’ he answered.
‘We are quite ruined?’
‘No. There is hope yet, Caroline.’
‘If he relents,’ she said, amazed, ‘there is! Nothing is past hope, if such a miracle has happened.’
‘He is past relenting,’ said her husband. ‘He is dead.’
She was a mild and patient creature, if her face spoke truth; but she was thankful in her soul to hear it, and she said so with clasped hands. She prayed forgiveness the next moment, and was sorry; but the first was the emotion of her heart.
‘What the half-drunken woman, whom I told you of last night, said to me when I tried to see him and obtain a week’s delay—and what I thought was a mere excuse to avoid me—turns out to have been quite true. He was not only very ill, but dying, then.’
‘To whom will our debt be transferred?’
‘I don’t know. But, before that time, we shall be ready with the money; and even though we were not, it would be bad fortune indeed to find so merciless a creditor in his successor. We may sleep to-night with light hearts, Caroline!’
