“We do not know his address,” Robert said. “And there would be the expense of the return voyage.”
“How old is the girl?”
“Thirteen,” I said.
Then there was a pause.
“What on earth did he do it for?” Aunt Briscoe asked at length.
“Nobody can imagine,” I said, “unless it is a trick to get her off his hands.”
Aunt Briscoe took up her knitting again in a deliberate manner.
“It may be that,” she said. “There’s no knowing, But I shouldn’t have thought Churton capable of it. Troublesome enough as a boy, but we didn’t count him deep. Always meaning to do right, and always doing wrong. That’s my notion of Churton Hazel.”
Curious that my husband should have taken much the same view of Churton’s conduct.
“But he has not written,” I said; “and no one knows where he is. He promised Maimie to send money for her support, and it has not come.”