And over his solitary tea-cup and his book the sorrowful news from the
Elms reached him, and all his historical castles in the air were
shivered. In the morning, before the town was stirring, he crossed the
bridge, and knocked softly at the familiar hall-door. Honest old John
Tracy opened it, and Dan shook hands with him, and both cried for a
while quietly.
'How is the honoured master?' at last said Loftus.
'He's there in the study, Sir. Thank God, you're come, Sir. I'm sure
he'd like to see you--I'll ask him.'
Dan went into the drawing-room. He looked out at the flowers, and then
at the harpsichord, and on her little walnut table, where her
work-basket lay, and her thimble, and the little coral necklace--a
childish treasure that she used to wear when she was quite a little
thing. It was like a dream; and everything seemed to say--'Poor little
Lily!'
So old John came in, and 'Sir,' said he, 'the master will be glad to see
you.' And Dan Loftus found himself in the study; and the good doctor and
he wrung one another's hands for a long time.
'Oh, Dan--Dan--she's gone--little Lily.'
'You'll see her again, Sir--oh, you'll see her again.
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