“I am all alone now,” he said, pathetically. “There is nobody now to care whether I live or die.”
Miss Lindsay did not contradict him.
“How did it happen?” she inquired, after they had gone some distance in silence.
“They were out in a sailing-boat,” said Mr. Barrett; “the boat capsized in a puff of wind, and they were all drowned.”
“Who was in charge of them?” inquired the girl, after a decent interval.
“Boatman,” replied the other.
“How did you hear?”
“I had a letter from one of my sisters-in-law, Charlotte,” said Mr. Barrett. “A most affecting letter. Poor Charlotte was like a second mother to them. She’ll never be the same woman again. Never!”
“I should like to see the letter,” said Miss Lindsay, musingly.
Mr. Barrett suppressed a start. “I should like to show it to you,” he said, “but I’m afraid I have destroyed it. It made me shudder every time I looked at it.”