“I will tell you,” I replied, “when the time comes. It has not come yet⁠—it may never come at all. I may be silent about it to Laura forever⁠—I must be silent now, even to you , till I see for myself that I can harmlessly and honourably speak. Let us leave that subject. There is another which has more pressing claims on our attention. You have kept Laura, mercifully kept her, in ignorance of her husband’s death⁠—”

“Oh, Walter, surely it must be long yet before we tell her of it?”

“No, Marian. Better that you should reveal it to her now, than that accident, which no one can guard against, should reveal it to her at some future time. Spare her all the details⁠—break it to her very tenderly, but tell her that he is dead.”

“You have a reason, Walter, for wishing her to know of her husband’s death besides the reason you have just mentioned?”