"And now," said Mrs. Green, in a somewhat trembling voice, "we must go
and tell your step-father."
Mr. Letts responded, but without briskness, and, with such moral support
as an arm of each could afford, walked slowly back. Arrived at a road of
substantial cottages at the back of the town, Mrs. Green gasped, and,
coming to a standstill, nodded at a van that stood half-way up the road.
"There it is," she exclaimed.
"What?" demanded Mr. Letts.
"The furniture I told you about," said Mrs. Green. "The furniture that
your poor father thought such a lot of, because it used to belong to his
grandfather. He's selling it to Simpson, though I begged and prayed him
not to."
Mr. Letts encouraged himself with a deep cough. "My furniture?" he
demanded.
Mrs. Green took courage. "Yes," she said, hope-fully; "your father left
it to you."
Mr. Letts, carrying his head very erect, took a firmer grip of their arms
and gazed steadily at a disagreeable-looking man who was eying them in
some astonishment from the doorway. With arms still linked they found
the narrow gateway somewhat difficult, but they negotiated it by a
turning movement, and, standing in the front garden, waited while Mrs.
Green tried to find her voice.
[Illustration: "A disagreeable-looking man was eying them in some
astonishment from the doorway."]
"Jack," she said at last, "this is your stepfather.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25