“Well—he came and took it away this morning before ten o’clock. Katharine told me.” Mrs. Ralston laughed without smiling.
“Upon my word! But it’s rather curious, though. I didn’t know he was mean. He never seemed to be, somehow.”
“No—I know. It struck me as strange, too. A new light on his character.”
“I fancy he has some object. I hate him—I loathe him! But that isn’t like him. I wonder whether Hester was angry because he gave it away. It was for her, you know, and she may not have liked his giving it away. I’ll go and see Katharine. Was it late when you left there?”
“About half past four. I stayed with her a long time after the lawyer had gone.”
“Mother,” said Ralston, suddenly, “why can’t we just face it out and bring her here? Would it look too strange, do you think?”
“Yes. People would say we’d waited for poor uncle Robert to die. You must have a little more patience, dear boy.”
“That’s just what I thought at first,” answered Ralston. “I’ll go and see her. If she hadn’t left at half past four, I don’t believe she’ll leave to-day. When is the funeral to be?”
“Day after to-morrow, I think.”
END OF VOL. I.