I can't tell why.'
'Oh, a feeling?' Mr. Troy repeated, in a tone of compassionate contempt.
'When it comes to feelings, my good soul--!' He left the sentence
unfinished, and rose to take his leave of Mr. Westwick. The truth is,
he began to feel puzzled himself, and he did not choose to let
Mrs. Ferrari see it. 'Accept the expression of my sympathy, sir,'
he said to Mr. Westwick politely. 'I wish you good evening.'
Henry turned to Mrs. Ferrari as the lawyer closed the door.
'I have heard of your trouble, Emily, from Miss Lockwood. Is there
anything I can do to help you?'
'Nothing, sir, thank you. Perhaps, I had better go home after
what has happened? I will call to-morrow, and see if I can be of
any use to Miss Agnes. I am very sorry for her.' She stole away,
with her formal curtsey, her noiseless step, and her obstinate
resolution to take the gloomiest view of her husband's case.
Henry Westwick looked round him in the solitude of the little drawing-room.
There was nothing to keep him in the house, and yet he lingered in it.
It was something to be even near Agnes--to see the things belonging
to her that were scattered about the room.
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