Yes, it is hardly allowable even to postpone it.
Where is he ?' Wilfrid was found in the hotel garden.
'Your aunt has had a letter from Beatrice,' Mr.Athel began, with the awkwardness of a comfortable Englishman called upon to break bad news.
'She is staying in Dunfield.' 'Indeed ?' 'There's something in the letter you ought to know.' Wilfrid looked anxiously.
'It appears that Miss Hood's father has--don't let it be a shock to you--has just died, and died, in fact, by his own hands.' 'Has killed himself ?' Wilfrid exclaimed, turning pale.
'Yes, I am sorry to say that is the report.

Miss Hood is naturally suffering from--from the shocking occurrence.' 'She is ill ?' Wilfrid asked, when he had examined his father's face for a moment.
'Yes, I am afraid she is.

Beatrice gives no details.' 'You are not keeping anything from me ?' 'Indeed, nothing.

The words are that she is ill, and, it is feared, seriously.' 'I must go at once.' It was said with quiet decision.

Wilfrid consulted his watch, and walked rapidly to the hotel.