Jack shook his head.
“As you please,” murmured Stephen, with a resigned sigh. “Mr. Hudsley is quite sufficient; he knows where everything of importance is kept. You will have some refreshments after your journey, my dear Jack?”
“No, thanks,” said Jack; “I want nothing—I couldn’t eat anything. I’ll go now.”
“Are you going, Mr. Newcombe?” said Mr. Hudsley, entering and looking from one to the other keenly.
“I am going to the ‘Bush;’ I shall stay there in case I am wanted.”
“The funeral had better be fixed for Saturday. You and Mr. Stephen will be the chief mourners.” Then he turned to Stephen. “I have sealed up most of the things. Is there anything you can suggest?”
“You know all that is required; we leave everything to you, Mr Hudsley. I think I may speak for my cousin—may I not, Jack?”
Jack did not reply, but put on his gloves.
“I will go now,” he said. “Good-night, Mr. Hudsley.”
The old lawyer looked at him keenly as he took his hand.