She did not keep him anywhere that long.

Three weeks after writing this letter, she telegraphed suddenly to George that they were leaving for home at once; and four days later, when he and a friend came whistling into his study, from lunch at the club, he found another telegram upon his desk.
He read it twice before he comprehended its import.
Papa left us at ten this morning, dearest.

Mother.
The friend saw the change in his face.

"Not bad news ?" George lifted utterly dumfounded eyes from the yellow paper.
"My father," he said weakly.

"She says--she says he's dead.