"Wet nurse be hanged," he responded gruffly. "Here's your first chance to be of use in the world and—you talk like that—"
"Easy to talk," ruefully from me.
"Well, what the blazes do you mean to do?"
"That is what I am trying to work out," I fell upon him bitterly. "D'you think it's easy? I've got to work out some plan—find homes for them—the right kind of schools—with a home environment. Oh, it's easy, I assure you! Besides," I ran on savagely, "you seem to forget I'm to be married in two weeks."
"I did forget that," growled Dibdin, with a semblance of contrition. "What does the lady say?"
"Well, what should she say? Could you expect a girl on her wedding day to become the harassed mother of three children not her own?"
Dibdin jumped from his chair, ground an oath between his teeth and his forehead was a file of wrinkles.
"Listen, Randolph," he began in another voice. "It's damnably tough, and I know it. But you can't, you simply can't disperse your sister's children to God knows where. You are the only relation they've got. Put yourself in their place. It would be damnation. If you need—more money," he stammered in confusion, "why, dash it—I'm an old enough friend of yours to—to advance you some, eh?"
And he laughed raucously, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.
"You are a good sort—of tramp," I grinned sheepishly, seizing his hand. "But it isn't that. I don't know as yet what Laura left them. But it isn't that. I feel like—like hell about it—but what can I do—what with Gertrude and—and everything else. Oh, it's the easiest thing in the world, I assure you.—But I wish to God I could see my way to keeping them!"