The only being Gladys could think of to help her with the other arrangements was Mr. Fordyce. She seemed to turn naturally to him in her time of need. A message sent to St. Vincent Street in the morning brought him speedily, and he greeted her with a mixture of fatherly compassion and sympathy which broke her down.
'You see it has not been long,' she said, with a quiver of the lips. 'I do not know what to do, or how to act. I thought you would know everything.'
'I know what is necessary here, at least, my dear, and it shall be done,' he said kindly. 'The first thing I would suggest is that you should come home with me just now.'
Gladys looked at him wonderingly, and shook her head.
'You are very kind, but that is quite impossible,' she said quickly. 'I shall not leave here until all is over, and then I do not know what I shall do. God will show me.'
The lawyer was deeply moved.
'My dear young lady, has it never occurred to you that there might be something left for you, a substantial provision, which will place you at once above the need of considering what you are to do, so far as providing for yourself is concerned?'
'I have not thought about it. Is it so?' she asked quickly, yet not with the eager elation of the expectant heir.
'You are very well left indeed,' he answered. 'If you like, I can explain it to you now.'
But Gladys shrank a little as she glanced towards the bed.