VNevertheless he was not able to persuade her to join him, with Lucy, in a trip abroad. She was tirelessly concerned to do and say everything she could that showed her deep sympathy with him in his loss—he had told her nothing beyond the bare fact, and she was not one to read about inquests—and her deep sense of obligation to him that he, labouring under so great a burden of sorrow of his own, should have helped them with such devotion and unselfishness in theirs; but she wouldn't go abroad. She was going, she said, to her little house in London with Lucy.
'What, in August?' exclaimed Wemyss.
Yes, they would be quiet there, and indeed they were both worn out and only wished for solitude.
'Then why not stay here?' asked Wemyss, who now considered Lucy's aunt selfish. 'This is solitary en
