“Some day! Oh, Evelyn, it may be to-day!”
“What do you mean?” said Evelyn, her face turning very white. She pushed Audrey, who was a good deal taller than her cousin, away and looked up at her. Audrey had now ceased crying; she wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“I must tell you,” she said. “It is my father. He shot himself by accident this morning. His new gun from London was loaded. I suppose he did not know it; anyhow, he knocked the gun against something and it went off, and—he is at death’s door.”
“What—do—you say?” asked Evelyn.
A complete change had come over her. Her eyes looked dim and yet wild. She took Audrey by the arm and shook her.
“The gun from London loaded, and it went off, and—— Is he hurt much—much? Speak, Audrey—speak!”
She took her cousin now and shook her frantically.
“Speak!” she said. “You are driving me mad!”
“What is the matter with you, Evelyn?”
“Speak! Is he—hurt—much?”