"We shall see," Cragg answered.
So far, so good, was his thought as he went home. Pattie evidently had no idea of the full extent of his undertaking with respect to herself. Just as well that she should not know at present. He would tell his wife that she was coming for a while. If Pattie were bent on working for herself, the arrangement would not have to be permanent.
Cowardice seized him again, when he found himself in his wife's presence. He had meant to tell her as soon as he got in, and then he put off doing so until after tea. When tea was finished he still felt disinclined to speak, and he waited till Dot was brought in. Dot always devoted her small self to him for an hour before going to bed. With Dot on his knee he became more courageous, and Mrs. Cragg herself supplied an opening.
"So they are going to have the funeral to-morrow?"
"Yes; at two o'clock."
"Well, it's a good thing he didn't linger on in a helpless state. Nobody could have afforded that. What's going to become of the child?"
"Poo-ar lickle girl!" put in Dot appropriately.
"You should say 'little,' not 'lickle,'" reproved Mrs. Cragg. "It sounds so silly."
Dot hung her head.
"I do say lick-karl," she asserted impressively.