I hastily consulted my watch. "If I hurry I can catch the 10:21. Where can I see you? The train reaches the Pennsylvania at 11 o'clock."
"I'll be in the woman's waiting room at the Pennsylvania, not the Long
Island; the main waiting room. Look for me there. Good-by."
As soon as I caught sight of Lillian I knew that something was the matter, or she would not look at me in that way. Impulsively I laid my hand on hers.
"Tell me, Mrs. Underwood, is anything the matter?"
She imprisoned my hand in both of hers and patted it.
"Nothing that cannot be helped, my dear," she said determinedly. "Now I am going to forbid asking another question until we have had our luncheon. I decline to discuss the affairs of the nation or my own on an empty stomach, and my breakfast this morning consisted of the juice of two lemons and a small cup of coffee."
"Why?" I asked mechanically, although I knew the answer.
"The awful penalty of trying to keep one's figure," she returned lightly. "But I certainly am going to break training this noon. I am simply starved."
Her tone and words were reassuring, although I still felt there was something behind her light manner which intimately concerned me. But I had learned to count on her downright honesty, and her words, "Nothing that cannot be helped, my dear," steadied me, gave me hope that no matter what trouble she had to tell me, she had also a panacea for it.
We discussed our luncheon leisurely. Under the influence of the bracing air, the beautiful view, the delicious viands, I gradually forgot my worries, or at least pushed them back into a corner of my brain.