CHAPTER XIII.
A YOUNG WIDOW.
The next morning Dr. Ashleigh started from his hotel after breakfast to see Sophy Gregory. He shrank from what he had to do, for he knew what a terrible shock it must be to her, and he remembered how ill she had been, and how nearly she had gone out of her mind a year before, under the blow of the news of Mr. Harmer's sudden death. But there was no help for it: it was evident that she must be told. He knew where she lived, as letters had been exchanged several times, up to the last, which had conveyed the news of the failure of the attempt to find the will in the secret chamber. Of course, it was possible that they might have since changed their abode; but if so, the people at their last lodgings would be certain to know their present address. However, this doubt was at once removed by the reply to his question, "Is Mrs. Gregory in?"
"Yes, sir, but she is in bed."
"In bed!" the doctor said, rather surprised. "Is she not well?"
"Don't you know, sir, she had a little baby last week?"
"God bless me!" was all the doctor could say; for Sophy had not in her last letter, which, indeed, had been written some time before, made any mention of her expecting such a thing. "Will you be good enough to tell her that Dr. Ashleigh is here, and ask her if she will see him; and do not mention that I did not know of her confinement."
The doctor was shown into the little parlour, where he sat down while Mrs. Billow went in to tell Sophy that he was there. As he looked round on the pictures which he remembered hanging in such a different room, he wondered to himself whether the advent of this little child, who was fatherless now, was for the better or no; and he came to the conclusion that it was. Sophy would have two mouths to feed instead of one, but it would be surely a comfort to her—something to cling to and love, under this terrible blow which he had to give her.
In about five minutes Mrs. Billow came in, and said that Mrs. Gregory was ready to see him now.