"I shall stay here, dear, until I'm turned out; then my sister-in-law will take me in for a few days."
"You'll write and tell me what you hear from Lord Beaucourt, won't you? Indeed I hope he will be kind to you. I have been so hurried that I hardly seem to feel things yet; but indeed I am very, very sorry for you. It is so hard on you."
"It is indeed. But Lord Beaucourt is one who never forgets them who have served him well, and my mother was his confidential housekeeper—no common servant; more like a friend, you know—for many years, and his lordship was always most kind to me. Of course, I shall write, and you must write to me. How I shall miss you, dear, and my darling boys! There's some one at the door, Janet."
"Come in," Janet called out wearily.
And in came Mr. Frank Hopper.
"Good evening, Mrs. Rayburn," he said, as she rose to meet him. The elder woman was sitting in the shadow of the window curtain, and he did not see her.
"This is a sad business, Mrs. Rayburn. I am sorry to hear that Rayburn has gone away. It struck me that you might be in difficulties, and that I had better see you."
"Of course we are in difficulties, Mr. Frank."
"Yes—but I want—I meant—in a word, Mrs. Rayburn, do you know where your husband has gone, and—are you to join him?"
"Why, certainly I am," Janet said angrily. "Oh, Mr. Frank, how could you think that Fred would desert me and the children?"