Elisha had broken the news at the table during luncheon, after which
he went downtown. Stephen, having raved, protested, and made himself
generally disagreeable and his sister correspondingly miserable, had
departed for the club. It was a time for confidences, and the wily Mrs.
Dunn realized that fact. She soothed, comforted, and within half an
hour, had learned the whole story. Caroline told her all, the strange
will, the disclosure concerning the country uncle, and the inexplicable
clauses begging the latter to accept the executorship, the trust, and
the charge of her brother and herself. Incidentally she mentioned that
a possible five hundred thousand was the extreme limit of the family's
pecuniary resources.

"Now you know everything," sobbed Caroline. "Oh, Mrs. Dunn, YOU won't
desert us, will you?"

The widow's reply was a triumph, of its kind. In it were expressed
sorrow, indignation, pity, and unswerving loyalty. Desert them? Desert
the young people, toward whom she had come to feel almost like a mother?
Never!

"You may depend on Malcolm and me, my dear," she declared. "We are not
fair-weather friends. And, after all, it is not so very bad. Affairs
might be very much worse."

"Worse! Oh, Mrs. Dunn, how could they be? Think of it! Stephen and I are
dependent upon him for everything. We must ask him for every penny. And
whatever he says to do we MUST do. We're obliged to. Just think! if he
decides to take us back with him to--South Denboro, or whatever dreadful
place he comes from, we shall have to go--and live there."