Sir Hugo held out a letter written on foreign paper, which Deronda thrust into his breast-pocket, with a sense of relief that he was not called on to read anything immediately. The emotion on Daniel's face had gained on the baronet, and was visibly shaking his composure. Sir Hugo found it difficult to say more. And Deronda's whole soul was possessed by a question which was the hardest in the world to utter. Yet he could not bear to delay it. This was a sacramental moment. If he let it pass, he could not recover the influences under which it was possible to utter the words and meet the answer. For some moments his eyes were cast down, and it seemed to both as if thoughts were in the air between them. But at last Deronda looked at Sir Hugo, and said, with a tremulous reverence in his voice--dreading to convey indirectly the reproach that affection had for years been stifling,
"Is my father also living?"

Sir Hugo held out a letter written on foreign paper, which Deronda thrust into his breast-pocket, relieved that he was not called on to read it immediately. His composure shaken, Sir Hugo found it difficult to say more. And Deronda's whole soul was possessed by a question which was the hardest in the world to utter. Yet he could not bear to delay it. At last he looked at Sir Hugo, and said, with a tremulous reverence in his voice, dreading to convey any reproach-
"Is my father also living?"
