“How is she?”
“Not worse, I believe. But so very weak. She wishes me to ask you—”
“What?”
His manner did not encourage the poor woman.
“I shall be obliged to tell her something. If I have nothing to say she will fret herself into a dangerous state. She wants to know if you have read her letter, and if—if you will see the child.”
Widdowson turned away and stood irresolute. He felt Miss Madden’s hand upon his arm.
“Oh, don’t refuse! Let me give her some comfort.”
“It’s the child she’s anxious about?”
Alice admitted it, looking into her brother-in-law’s face with woeful appeal.
“Say I will see it,” he answered, “and have it brought into some room—then say I have seen it.”