"Well, Janet, what's up?" he began, and then, seeing strangers, paused expectantly.
"Mrs. Mulford," said Janet, "this is my cousin, Mr. Lawrence. Mr. Landon, Mr. Lawrence."
The new-comer bowed politely and with the graceful courtesy of a well-bred city man, then turned again to his cousin.
"I sent for you, George," began Janet, "because—because——"
But here her self-possession failed her, and she could go no further. She cast an appealing glance at me, as if to ask me to speak for her, then threw herself on the couch in an uncontrollable fit of weeping.
Laura sat beside the sobbing girl, while Mr. Lawrence turned to me for an explanation.
Judging at first sight that with a man of his type a straightforward statement would be the best, I told him in as few words as possible what had happened.
"Uncle Robert dead!" he exclaimed. "Why, what does it mean? He had no heart trouble that we knew of. Was it apoplexy?"
"I think so," I replied. "Two doctors are in there now, holding a consultation."