“I don’t know yet. I am afraid you will be sorry to leave this pretty place so soon; but—”
“Sorry—I should think so! Leave it on her account! I think that woman has treated you atrociously,” Dulcibel said in her most indignant tone.
George did not gainsay the remark.
“Giving over her child to you in this cool fashion, and absolutely leaving you no choice! I don’t know which is worst—the wrong to you, or the wrong to Joan. How does she know that you won’t refuse altogether to have to do with Joan; and what would become of the poor little thing then? I think I never heard of such utter heartlessness. I don’t wonder at her feeling miserable. She ought to be miserable.”
“True enough,” George said quietly. “She has acted very wrongly; and therefore I am the more anxious to find her.”
“Of course she ought to be found, and to be made to work for the child. But I thought we were to have another fortnight here.”
“I could leave you at the hotel, Dulcie, with Leo and Joan, and come back to you all.”
“As if I should care for that! Oh, dear, no, Georgie! I don’t want Wales without you. How soon must we start? This evening? It really is too bad!”
“It is disappointing for you,” her husband said kindly.
“Oh, I don’t mind so much about that! What I do hate is seeing you imposed upon. Ninety-nine men in a hundred would send that child to the workhouse; and serve the mother right too!”