She laid a hand on the girl’s arm. Captain Elisha quietly interposed.
“No, no,” he said. “We’ll all stay here. There’s nothin’ public about it.”
Caroline, crimson with mortification, protested indignantly.
“Mr. Sylvester,” she said, “it is not necessary to—”
“Excuse me;” her uncle’s tone was sharper and more stern; “I think it is. Go on, Sylvester.”
The lawyer looked far from comfortable, but he spoke at once and to the point.
“I should have told you and your son just this, Mrs. Dunn,” he said. “I intimated it before, and Miss Warren had already written you the essential facts. A new and unexpected development, the nature of which I am not at liberty to disclose now or later, makes Abijah Warren’s estate absolutely bankrupt. Not only that, but many thousand dollars in debt. His heirs are left penniless. That is the plain truth, I’m very sorry to say. There is no hope of anything better. You’ll forgive me, Miss Warren, I hope, for putting it so bluntly; but I thought it best to avoid every possible misunderstanding.”
It was blunt, beyond doubt. Even Captain Elisha winced at the word “penniless.” Stephen muttered under his breath and turned his back. Caroline, swaying, put a hand on the table to steady herself. The Dunns looked at each other.
“Thank you, Mr. Sylvester,” said the captain, quietly. “I’ll see you again in a few moments.”
The lawyer bowed and left the room, evidently glad to escape. Captain Elisha turned to Mrs. Dunn.