Miss Decker entered with apparent haste, spoke to Trent, then stopped abruptly.
“Jessica!” she cried. “What is the matter?”
“My face! You know how I have suffered—worse than ever.”
“Oh, you poor dear! She is such a martyr, Mr. Trent, with that tooth—”
“Neuralgia!”
“I mean neuralgia! She was up all night. But, my dear, don’t think me a heartless fiend, but you must see your lawyer. He is here with those deeds for you to sign, and he says that he must catch the train.”
“That estate has given me so much trouble,” murmured Mrs. Pendleton, wretchedly; “and how can I talk business when my head is on the rack? I do not wish to leave Mr. Trent so soon, either.”
“Leave Mr. Trent to me. I will entertain him. I will talk to him about you.”
“May I speak to you one moment before you go?” asked Trent.
“Yes,” pinching her lips with extremest pain, “you need not mind Edith.”