said I, pausing in the doorway. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, nothing—I did not intend you should hear my soliloquy. But the fact is, Mrs. Huntingdon, I have a disclosure to make—painful for me to offer as for you to hear—and I want you to give me a few minutes of your attention in private, at any time and place you like to appoint. It is from no selfish motive that I ask it, and not for any cause that could alarm your super-human purity; therefore, you need not kill me with that look of cold and pitiless disdain. I know too well the feelings with which the bearers of bad tidings are commonly regarded, not to—"
"What is this wonderful piece of intelligence?" said I, impatiently interrupting him.
"If it is anything of real importance, speak it in three words before I go."
"In three words I cannot. Send those children away, and stay with me."
"No; keep your bad tidings to yourself. I
