“My young friend, you are too sensitive. I now offer you the strongest proof of confidence that I can ever hope to command. Will you take charge of this stricken household in my absence, and not only superintend the arrangements necessary for the funeral, but watch over Mrs. Gerome and see that no one disturbs her?”
“You may trust me to execute her wishes and your orders.”
“Thank you. There certainly is no one except you whom I would trust in this emergency. One thing more; if Mrs. Gerome leaves the house, do not lose sight of her. It may be necessary to keep a very strict surveillance over her, and I will return as soon as possible, and relieve you.”
As they entered the house, Salome said,—
“You will stop at home and get your breakfast?”
“No, I shall not have time.”
“Let me make you a cup of coffee before you start.”
“Thank you, it is not necessary; and besides, the house is in such confusion that it would be difficult to obtain anything. Come with me.”
She followed him into the dim room, where the tall but emaciated form of Elsie Maclean had been dressed for its last long sleep. The housemaid sat at the bedside, and Robert stood at one of the windows.
The first passionate burst of grief had spent itself, and the son was very calm.