"Oh, it's only a wretched old man--that two beasts of women have put into the workhouse infirmary against his will. I only heard it to-night. I must go and get him out."
He looked round for his gloves and stick.
"Why shouldn't he be there?"
"Because it's an infernal shame!" said the other, shortly. "He's an old laborer who'd saved quite a lot of money. He kept it in his cottage, and the other day it was all stolen by a tramp. He has lived with these two women--his sister-in-law and her daughter--for years and years. As long as he had money to leave, nothing was too good for him. The shock half killed him, and now that he's a pauper these two harpies will have nothing to say to nursing him and looking after him. He told me the other day he thought they'd force him into the infirmary. I didn't believe it. But while I've been away they've gone and done it."
"Well, what'll you do now?"
"Get him out."
"And then?"
Delafield hesitated. "Well, then, I suppose, he can come to my place till I can find some decent woman to put him with."
Sir Wilfrid rose.
"I think I'll run down and see you some day. Will there be paupers in all the bedrooms?"