“Do you know where the Mordaunts are living?” asked Basil eagerly.
“Yes; they live in Brooklyn, and are very poor. Frank sells papers for a living, but you know that this is a very poor dependence.”
“But I thought that they had some property.”
“It was lost, by speculation, I think.”
“I will at once send them a hundred dollars, to tide them over till the income which belongs to them comes into their hands.”
“I wish you would, Mr. Wentworth,” said Ben earnestly. “They stand in great need of it.”
“But Edwin, or rather Ben, you don’t speak of yourself. My cousin’s death will be a serious loss to you.”
“Yes, but I think I shall get along.”
“You are young and hopeful. Do you think Mrs. Harcourt has provided for you?”
“I know nothing about that. Her will, as she writes, is in the hands of her bankers in Paris. She has appointed you her executor.”