“Yes, certainly,” he said. “I will go too and thank them for helping Ethel to send me word that you were not well treated or happy here.”
It had been a hasty farewell, as it was near train time, and some tears were shed, but Mr. Eldon tried to comfort them all with the hope that the separation need not be for so very long, inviting the ladies and little Mary to visit his nephew and nieces at his house, and promising some day to bring Ethel, Blanche, Harry, and Nannette to see them.
CHAPTER XIII.
For more than an hour after his brother’s departure Mr. George Eldon was very busy in his office, buying and selling; then came a lull for a short space, giving him time to think again of Ethel’s letter and what might be done to secure a kindly welcome for the little orphans at his own house and that of his brother.
“Albert will be back with them before night, and our wives ought to have warning that they are coming. It would be hardly fair to take them entirely by surprise. I promised my brother too, that I would endeavor to prepare them for the unexpected arrival,” he mused. “Well, I think I can spare the time now as easily as later.”
At that instant the door into the counting room opened and his eldest son came in.
“Ah, George,” said the father, “I was just about to call you. I am going up home to see your mother and aunt, to tell them of the contents of this letter,” handing Ethel’s missive to him as he spoke.
George took it, glanced rapidly over the contents, then turning to his father with flushing cheeks and flashing eyes, “The inhuman scoundrel!” he exclaimed, “You will take the poor little things away from him as soon as possible, I hope.”
“Yes; your Uncle Albert has gone for them and will doubtless have them here before night. I must go up home at once with the news, leaving matters here in your care until I get back.”
“Yes, sir, I think I can attend to them to your satisfaction,” returned the son. “And I hope you will find mother and Aunt Augusta entirely willing to take those poor little orphans in to share our homes. That Coote has always seemed to me a fawning hypocrite, and I am sure of it now.”