"I don't think a note is enough for George," Helen said as she rolled up her sleeves. "A man without a mother or a father, and only a Mrs. Biggs!"
"H'm," Miriam commented. "Except for Mrs. Biggs, I don't know that he's to be pitied. Still, I'm quite willing to be agreeable, unless you mean to go and knock at the farm door?"
"No. Couldn't we catch him somewhere!"
"Yes," Miriam said too promptly. She made a cautious pause. "He won't be riding on the moor today, because there'll be undertakers and things. If we went down the road—or shall I go alone?"
"Both of us—to represent the family. And we can say we're sorry—"
"But we're not."
"Yes, in a way. Sorry he hadn't a nicer father to be sorry for."
"What about ours?" Miriam asked.
"He may be dead, too, by now."
"And that will matter less to us than old Halkett does to George."