he children's
father, and he was her husband--I don't want anything very bad to happen
to him."

"It would simplify things very much," Meg said dreamily.

Jan held up her hand as if to ward off a blow.

"Don't, Meg; sometimes I find myself wishing something of the kind, and
I know it's wrong and horrible. I want as far as I can to keep in the
right with regard to Hugo, to give him no grievance against me. I've
written to that bank where he left the money, and asked them to forward
the letters if he has left any address. I've told him exactly where we
are and what we propose to do. Beyond the bare facts of Fay's death--I
told him all about her illness as dispassionately as I could--I've never
reproached him or said anything cruel. You see, the man is down and out;
though Mr. Ledgard always declared he had any amount of mysterious wires
to pull. Yet, I can't help wondering whether he is ill somewhere, with
no money and no friends, in some dreadful native quarter."

"What about the money in the bank, then? Did you use it?"

Jan blushed. "No, I couldn't bear to touch his money ... Mr. Ledgard
said it was idiotic...."

"So it was; it was Fay's money, not his. For all your good sense, Jan,
sometimes you're sentimental as a schoolgirl."

"I daresay it was stupid, and I didn't dare to tell Mr. Ledgard I'd left
it," Jan said humbly; "but I felt that perhaps that money might help him
if things got very desperate; I left it in his name and a letter telling
him I had done so ... I didn't _give_ him any money...."

"It was precisely the same thing."

"And he may never have got the letter."

"I hope he hasn't."

"Oh, Meg, I do so hate uncertainty. I'd rather know the worst. I always
have the foreboding that he will suddenly turn up at Wren's End and
threaten to take the children away ... and get money out of me that way
... and there's none to spare...."

"Jan, you've got into a thoroughly nervous, pessimistic state about
Hugo. Why in the world should he _want_ the children? They'd be terribly
in his way, and wherever he put them he'd have to pay _something_. You
know very well his people wouldn't keep them for nothing, even if he
were fool enough (for the sake of blackmailing you) to threaten to place
them there. His sisters wouldn't--not for nothing. What did Fay say
about his sisters? I remember one came to the wedding, but she has left
no impression on my mind. He has two, hasn't he?"

"Yes, but only one came, the