This speech and the manner in which it was made were impressive and alarming. The possibilities at which it hinted were more alarming still. We made no attempt to discuss family matters with Little Frank that day nor the next.
But on the day following, when I returned from my morning visit to Camford Street, I found Hephzy awaiting me in the sitting-room. She was very solemn.
“Hosy,” she said, “sit down. I've got somethin' to tell you.”
“About her?” I asked, apprehensively.
“Yes. She's just been talkin' to me.”
“She has! I thought we agreed not to talk with her at all.”
“We did, and I tried not to. But when I went in to see her just now she was waitin' for me. She had somethin' to say, she said, and she said it—Oh, my goodness, yes! she said it.”
“What did she say? Has she sent for her lawyer—her solicitor, or whatever he is?”
“No, she hasn't done that. I don't know but I 'most wish she had. He wouldn't be any harder to talk to than she is. Hosy, she's made up her mind.”
“Made up her mind! I thought HER mind was already made up.”