The sky was overcast next morning, and a cold wind blew from across the river. Hetzel and Mrs. Hart were up betimes; but Arthur, who had tossed restlessly about for the earlier half of the night, lay abed till late. He did not show his face downstairs till nine o’clock.
“We want to start in about half an hour, Arthur,” said Hetzel. “That will give us time to stop at your office, before going to the district-attorney’s.”
“What do we want to stop at my office for?”
“Why, to attend to the matters that Peixada wrote you about—return the will—and so forth.”
“Oh, yes. I had forgotten.”
“Then, I suppose, Mrs. Hart, that we shall be back here for luncheon, and bring Ruth with us. But if we shouldn’t turn up till somewhat later, you mustn’t alarm yourself. There’s no telling how long the legal formalities may take.”
“You speak as though you were going to leave me behind,” said Mrs. Hart.
“Why, I didn’t think you would want to go with us. The weather is so threatening, and the district-attorney’s office is so unpleasant a place, I took for granted that you would prefer to stay home.”
“Oh, no. I should go wild, waiting here alone. You must let me accompany you. I want to be the first—no, the second—to greet Ruth.”
Hetzel made no further opposition.