“Can’t you administer it surreptitiously?”
“I have a better plan than that,” broke in Colonel Thornton. “The child needs a change of ideas. The atmosphere of the house is enough to get on anyone’s nerves, particularly with that dipsomaniac, Philip, raising Cain at unexpected moments.”
“What’s your plan, Uncle Dana?”
“That you bring Cynthia over to my house to-morrow to spend Sunday. You come, too, Douglas. Cynthia hasn’t met you, and she won’t connect you with any of the tragic occurrences of the past week.” Then, as he saw the look of doubt on Eleanor’s face, he added, “Human nature can stand just so much of nervous strain and no more. Cynthia must have relaxation and diversion.”
“But I don’t think Mrs. Winthrop will approve of her going out so soon after the funeral,” objected Eleanor doubtfully.
“Bah! That nonsense belongs to the dark ages. What good will Cynthia’s staying in that gloomy house do poor Carew? I’ll drop in to-morrow morning and see Mrs. Winthrop; leave the matter to me, Eleanor. There is no earthly reason why she should object. I’ll ask Cousin Kate Truxton also.”
“Cousin Kate!” echoed Eleanor, her conscience smiting her. “Where has she gone?”
“I left her talking with Senator Jenkins some time ago.” The Colonel glanced behind him. “Speaking of angels, here she comes now.”
Mrs. Truxton was walking leisurely in their direction. Seeing that they had observed her, she waved her parasol and hastened her footsteps.
“Cousin Kate, I think you already know Mr. Hunter,” said Eleanor, as the older woman reached her side.