What he thus finally spoke of was a different matter.
"Did I understand from Mrs. Lowder that your father's in the house?"
If it never had taken her long in such excursions to meet him it was not to take her so now.
"In the house, yes.
But we needn't fear his interruption"—she spoke as if he had thought of that. "He's in bed."
"Do you mean with illness?"
She sadly shook her head.
"Father's never ill.
He's a marvel.
He's only—endless."
Densher thought.
"Can I in any way help you with him?"
"Yes." She perfectly, wearily, almost serenely, had it all.
"By our making your visit as little of an affair as possible for him—and for Marian too."
"I see.
They hate so your seeing me.
Yet I couldn't—could I?—not have come."
"No, you couldn't not have come."
"But I can only, on the other hand, go as soon as possible?"
Quickly it almost upset her.
"Ah don't, to-day, put ugly words into my mouth.
I've enough of my trouble without it."
"I know—I know!" He spoke in instant pleading. "It's all only that I'm as troubled for you.
When did he come?"
"Three days ago—after he hadn't been near her for more than a year, after he had apparently, and not regrettably, ceased to remember her existence; and in a state which made it impossible not to take him in."
Densher hesitated.
"Do you mean in such want—?"
"No, not of food, of necessary things—not even, so far as his appearance went, of money.
He looked as wonderful as ever.
But he was—well, in terror."
"In terror of what?"
"I don't know.
Of somebody—of something.
He wants, he says, to be quiet.
But his quietness is awful."
She suffered, but he couldn't not question.
"What does he do?"
It made Kate herself hesitate.
"He cries."
Again for a moment he hung fire, but he risked it.
"What has he done?"
It made her slowly rise, and they were once more fully face to face.
Her eyes held his own and she was paler than she had been.
"If you love me—now—don't ask me about father."
He waited again a moment.
"I love you.
It's because I love you that I'm here.
It's because I love you that I've brought you this."
And he drew from behind him the letter that had remained in his hand.
But her eyes only—though he held it out—met the offer.