“My dear Hazel,” he said, “your late father always passed for a wealthy man, but I grieve to say that of late he had embarked in some most unfortunate speculations.”
“Poor papa!”
“They were so bad that at last all depended upon one change in the market—a change that did not take place till after his death.”
Hazel sobbed.
“If he had lived two days longer he would have known that he was a ruined man.”
Hazel’s tears ceased to flow, and Geringer went on:—
“I grieve, then, to tell you, my dear child, that instead of leaving his family in a tolerably independent state, my poor friend has left you all penniless.”
“Penniless?”
“Yes. Worse; for this house and its furniture must go to defray the debts he has left behind. It is terrible—terrible indeed.”
“Terrible?”