“I did.”
“I am sorry to refuse you, my dear lady, but I am afraid he is too ill to see you.”
“I am not rich,” Aunt Anne began, and her voice faltered a little; “and he promised to make me an allowance.”
“He has never done so yet?”
“No,” she said sadly, “he has had it under consideration. Perhaps he was reflecting what would be an adequate sum to defray my necessary expenses.”
“Perhaps so,” Mr. Boughton said thoughtfully. “If you will excuse me one moment, I will inquire if by any possibility my client can see you;” and he left the room.
But in a few minutes he returned.
“It is quite out of the question,” he explained, “quite. I don’t wish to distress you, but I fear that our friend is much too ill to attend for some time to his worldly affairs.”
“I have been waiting many months for his decision,” the old lady said, with a world of pain in her voice; “it has been most difficult to maintain my position.”
“Quite so, quite so, my dear lady, and I feel sure that Sir William would wish this matter to be attended to without delay. I think I understand you to be the daughter of his mother’s sister——”