"We like your cotton so much, sister and I. But, oh dear, isn't this bad news! I'm so sorry for you all; I am really."
Miss Sophy had no intention of being unkind; but she never could resist talking, and it did not so much as occur to her that silence would be the kinder course, until at least she was sure of her facts. There was no need to say anything yet.
Mimy's rather stolid face looked straight at her, with a blunt "What?"
"About the ship on the rocks, you know. Of course you've heard all that. And a boat went out to save the sailors, and they're all drowned; and I'm told your brother was in the boat."
A reel slipped through Mimy's fingers. "Who told you?"
"Tim Robins was sent for the doctor, and he says so—every one of them, he says. Poor things! It's too dreadful."
"I don't believe it," Mimy responded, turning scared eyes to the door of the back room, whence came a hoarse murmur,—
"Jack drowned!"
Mimy forgot her duties as saleswoman. Leaving the cotton reels to take care of themselves, she went towards Jessie.
"I don't believe it," she repeated. "Tim isn't to be trusted. I don't believe a word of it."