"Well—well," grumbled Jonathan, "I suppose I must be content. "Enough's as good as a feast. . I wonder if he really wants me to go home. They are not your children, they never were. The thought of Capes flooded her being like long-veiled sunlight breaking again through clouds. But it appears he was picked up by fishermen, and carried to France, where he has remained ever since, and where it would have been well for him if he had remained altogether. Mrs. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. The jolly part of it was that for the first time in her life so far as London was concerned, she was not going anywhere in particular; for the first time in her life it seemed to her she was taking London in.
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