“The girl is also dead,” he continued. “The baby is about ten days old.”
“I should recommend an orphanage,” said Mrs. Collingwood. “I can give you a letter to one.”
“He was an awfully good fellow,” said Jack.
Mrs. Collingwood drew her mouth very tight. There was no reply necessary. Jack rose.
“The girl died suddenly a few days ago,” he said, “only a week after the birth of the baby. Frank died in May last. He appointed me executor of his will, and I see by it that he leaves all he has to his—to this girl in trust for the child. He meant to marry her, he had told me that; of course he ought to have.”
“Of course he ought to have!” said Mrs. Collingwood.
If you can imagine such a thing as a malignant echo, you will know how she spoke.
“You suggest nothing else?” asked Jack, still lingering. “I have already a promise of a place in an orphanage. Of course the child does not want that. There is plenty of money.”
“There is nothing else to suggest,” said Mrs. Collingwood, in a perfectly business-like manner. “I cannot see why you wanted my advice if you already have a place for the child.”
“No; I was wrong,” said Jack.