Part 19 (1/2)

”Well, money's your friend,” declared Tottie, philosophically. ”Me for it!”

A door-latch clicked. Someone had entered the hall.

”That's her!”

”Don't tell her Barbara's here. It'll be a jolly surprise.”

Tottie agreed, and with a quick movement caught the silk shawl from her own shoulders and covered the child.

CHAPTER VI

Clare ran all the way, with scared eyes, and heaving breast, and a hand clutching the rim of the tilted hat. And only when she reached the corner nearest home did she slow a little, to look behind her as if she feared pursuit. Then finding herself breathless, she stepped aside for a moment into the entrance of an apartment house, and there, under the suspicious watch of a negro elevator boy, pretended to hunt for something in her music-roll.

As she waited, she remembered that there was some laundry due her in the bas.e.m.e.nt. That must be collected. She walked on, having taken a second look around, and darted under the front steps to make her inquiry. She promised to call for the articles in ten minutes by way of the back stairs; then slowly ascended the brownstone steps, glancing up the street as she climbed, but as indifferently as possible.

Once inside the storm door, she listened. Someone might be telephoning--they knew her number at the Rectory. Or Tottie might have a visitor, which would interfere with plans.

She heard no sound. Letting herself in noiselessly, she tiptoed to the parlor door and opened it softly.

”h.e.l.lo-o-o-o!” It was Hull, laughing at the surprise they had for her.

”Felix!” She halted, aghast.

”Well, aren't you glad to see me?”

”Oh, yes! Yes!”--but her face belied her. She tugged at her hat, seeking, even in her nervousness, to adjust it becomingly.

”What're y' p.u.s.s.y-footin' around here for?” questioned Tottie, sharply.

”I'm not.--Tottie, can I see Mr. Hull alone?”

”Sure, dearie. As I say, don't never git your ear full of other folks's troubles--_and_ secrets.” She went out, with a backward look at once crafty and resentful.

With a quick warning sign to Hull, Clare ran to the door, bent to listen a moment, holding her breath, then ran to him, leading him toward the window. ”Felix,” she began, ”go back to Northrups. I'll 'phone you in an hour.”

He had been watching her anxiously. ”What is it? Something wrong?”

”Yes! Yes! My--my brother and sister--in Africa.” She got his hat from where he had laid it on the rocker.

”In trouble?” he persisted, studying her narrowly.

”Yes,--in trouble. And I don't want to see any reporters--not one!”

”That's all right”--he spoke very gently--”I'll see them.”

Her face whitened. ”Oh, no! There isn't anything to say. Felix, I'll just leave here, and they won't be able to find me. And you go now----” She urged him toward the door.

He stood his ground. ”You're not giving me the straight of this,” he a.s.serted, suddenly severe.

”I am, I tell you! I am!” Her face drew into lines of suffering. She entreated him, clasping his arm with her trembling hands.