"Assuredly," and Alma smiled assent. "But I will vanish in the meantime, I'm sure to interrupt if I stay."
The two men laughed. As she opened the door, she wafted a kiss to each one and disappeared.
"Dear girl!" murmured Will.
"Dear girl! I should say so, Will. Then why on earth that sad, mournful face? I have the check, old boy! Knew you'd come home anxious, so didn't wait until morning," he added, drawing an envelope from his pocket and handing it to Will. "Twenty thousand dollars you had to have, didn't you? Well, I made it $5,000 over so that Alma couldn't suspect, from your drawing it too tight."
Will took the check mechanically. Speechless and dazed he stood, watching George with increasing pallor.
"Cousin, what ails you?" asked George with alarm.
"You're so good, that is all,—in fact, too good for a wretch like me! and to think that it won't help—all that money even can't save me now!"
Haggard and white he sank into the nearest chair and buried his face in his hands. Sobs convulsed his form as he hid his face from view.
The doctor was momentarily astounded. Will was not the kind to play the woman, and shame? He couldn't couple the word with Will's straight-forwardness.
He laid a strong, kind hand upon the bent head.