Mrs. Dudgeon (disagreeably surprised).  Richard?

Anderson (nodding).  Yes.

Mrs. Dudgeon (vindictively).  Let it be a warning to him.  He may end that way himself, the wicked, dissolute, godless—­(she suddenly stops; her voice fails; and she asks, with evident dread) Did Timothy see him?

Anderson.  Yes.

Mrs. Dudgeon (holding her breath).  Well?

Anderson.  He only saw him in the crowd:  they did not speak. (Mrs. Dudgeon, greatly relieved, exhales the pent up breath and sits at her ease again.) Your husband was greatly touched and impressed by his brother’s awful death. (Mrs. Dudgeon sneers.  Anderson breaks off to demand with some indignation) Well, wasn’t it only natural, Mrs. Dudgeon?  He softened towards his prodigal son in that moment.  He sent for him to come to see him.

Mrs. Dudgeon (her alarm renewed).  Sent for Richard!

Anderson.  Yes; but Richard would not come.  He sent his father a message; but I’m sorry to say it was a wicked message—­an awful message.

Mrs. Dudgeon.  What was it?

Anderson.  That he would stand by his wicked uncle, and stand against his good parents, in this world and the next.

Mrs. Dudgeon (implacably).  He will be punished for it.  He will be punished for it—­in both worlds.

Anderson.  That is not in our hands, Mrs. Dudgeon.

Mrs. Dudgeon.  Did I say it was, Mr. Anderson.  We are told that the wicked shall be punished.  Why should we do our duty and keep God’s law if there is to be no difference made between us and those who follow their own likings and dislikings, and make a jest of us and of their Maker’s word?

Anderson.  Well, Richard’s earthly father has been merciful and his heavenly judge is the father of us all.

Mrs. Dudgeon (forgetting herself).  Richard’s earthly father was a softheaded—­

Anderson (shocked).  Oh!

Mrs. Dudgeon (with a touch of shame).  Well, I am Richard’s mother.  If I am against him who has any right to be for him?  (Trying to conciliate him.) Won’t you sit down, Mr. Anderson?  I should have asked you before; but I’m so troubled.

Anderson.  Thank you—­ (He takes a chair from beside the fireplace, and turns it so that he can sit comfortably at the fire.  When he is seated he adds, in the tone of a man who knows that he is opening a difficult subject.) Has Christy told you about the new will?

Mrs. Dudgeon (all her fears returning).  The new will!  Did Timothy—? (She breaks off, gasping, unable to complete the question.)

Anderson.  Yes.  In his last hours he changed his mind.

Mrs. Dudgeon (white with intense rage).  And you let him rob me?