“You are quite right, Bessie. Such a course is the more bearable one of the two.”
“Suppose he should come back, how then?” said Bessie, in a tone of alarm.
“Ah, he will not come back till he’s spent the whole, or the greater portion, of the money. There’s no fear of that.”
“To say the truth, I don’t think there is. But how he’s knocked about the things,” said Bessie, glancing at the overturned table and the broken glass.
“He upset them as he went out. The looking-glass is broken. That is a fatal sign. No luck in this house after that.”
“Don’t be superstitious,” cried the girl, lifting up the table, and endeavouring to replace it in its position.
“It won’t stand, dear. One of the legs is broken,” said Mrs. Bristow.
“Never mind.”
Her companion propped it up as best she could. Then she stooped down and began to pick up the pieces of the glass which had fallen from the frame.
These she placed on the table.