“I’m so sorry for Philip,” said Nan. “He was devoted to his aunt, and she idolised him. Of late, he practically made his home with her.”
“I suppose he is her heir,” observed Channing.
“I suppose so,” returned Nan, listlessly. And then she suddenly remembered what Patty had said about Mrs. Van’s bequest to her. But she decided to make no mention of it at present.
“She was a wealthy old lady,” said Cameron. “Van Reypen will be well fixed. He’s a good all-round man, I like him.”
“I don’t know him well,” said Chick, “I met him a few times. A thorough aristocrat, I should say.”
“All of that. They’re among the oldest of the Knickerbockers. But nothing of the snob about him. A right down good fellow and a loyal friend. Well, I must go. Command me, Mrs. Nan, if I can do the least thing for our Patty Girl. Keep up a good heart, and——”
Kit’s voice choked, and he went off without further words.
Channing soon followed, but all day the young people kept calling or telephoning, for Patty had hosts of friends and they all loved her.
Nan went to her room to write a note of sympathy to Philip. Her own heart full of sorrow and anxiety, she felt deeply for the young man whose home death had invaded, and her kindred trouble helped her to choose the right words of comfort and cheer.
The day of Mrs. Van Reypen’s funeral, Patty was very low indeed. Doctor and nurses held their breath as their patient hovered on the borderland of the Valley of Shadow, and Patty’s father, with Nan sobbing in his arms, awaited the dread verdict or the word of glorious hope.