“Yes—what is it?”
“There’s Mr. Crowdie downstairs, madam, wanting the picture of Miss Lauderdale that he brought yesterday for poor Mr. Lauderdale, and desirin’ to remove it. But the impression downstairs seems to be that Mr. Crowdie presented it to poor Mr. Lauderdale yesterday, in which case it appears to me, madam, to be part of poor Mr. Lauderdale’s belongings.”
“Oh! Well—wait a minute, please. I’ll ask my daughter if she knows anything about it.”
Mrs. Lauderdale re-entered the room.
“I heard what he was saying,” said Katharine, before her mother could speak. “He distinctly said he gave the picture to uncle Robert. I was there when he brought it. Isn’t that just like them—coming to get what they can when he’s hardly dead!”
“Yes—but what shall we do?”
“I don’t care. He’ll give it to Hester, as he meant to do at first. Let him take it.”
Mrs. Lauderdale went to the door again.
“Let Mr. Crowdie have his picture, Leek. I’ll be responsible.”