“Dr. Long would have given me a position in his academy to teach the very small children, but his daughter will do that so really he can do nothing for me. I think he was rather put out at my husband's leaving so suddenly. Of course, I went to him first. I have been very wretched and lonely—” and her lips quivered pathetically.
“My dear,” said Virginia with sudden animation, “you shall stay here with me until you hear from your husband!”
“Oh, Mrs. Landray!”
“I am lonely, too. It may be that we can cheer each other up. At any rate you shall remain with me until your husband knows of your need and provides for you. It will not be for long, and I shall be most happy to serve you in this way.”
“But I can't be a dependent—that of all things—”
“But you won't be. No, I won't listen to your objections. I know Stephen would expect me to do this.”
Just then, through the open window, she saw Benson crossing the yard from the mill. She turned toward the door.
“Here comes Mr. Benson. I will see him and tell him it is all arranged.”
She found the lawyer with one foot on the porch steps, hesitating as to whether or not he should enter the house.
“Mr. Benson,” she said in her clear, calm voice, “Mrs. Walsh will stay with me. May I ask you to see that her trunk is sent out from the town in the morning? Though, perhaps, I'd better send Sam in for it, so I need not trouble you.”