“You’ve been worried, little girl,” said Bob. “That’s all. Poor old uncle dying. It’s a hard blow for both of us.
“Maybe you oughtn’t to stay in this old house too much. Why don’t you take a trip down to Bermuda, or somewhere like that?”
“I don’t have the money, Bob,” said Betty frankly.
“You’ve got it coming to you from the estate, haven’t you?”
“I’m afraid there isn’t going to be much, Bob.”
“Don’t worry about that. There’ll be plenty. I’ve got plenty of money, Betty. I’ll take care of the trip.”
The girl shook her head.
“I wouldn’t want you to do that, Bob—”
“It’s all right with me, Betty.”
“Perhaps, later. After things are more settled. I’d rather stay here right now, Bob. That is, if you want me to—”