"She says her mother told her she was named after her father," remarked Nora; "of course his name must have been Cecil."
"Does she speak as if he were dead?" he asked, in a low tone, as the child began playing another air.
"She doesn't seem to know anything about him," she replied, in the same tone. "Miss Spencer has an idea her mother may be a deserted wife," she added.
"Poor thing!" said Roland; then turning to another subject, one of the objects of his visit: "I am going to give that lecture of mine that I was talking of, on 'Modern Miracles,' next week," he said, smilingly. "You said you would like to hear it, so I've brought you two or three tickets for yourself and any friends of yours who might do me the honor of coming. The price of admission is a merely nominal one," he added, disclaiming thanks, "simply to keep out 'roughs,' as the lecture is designed mainly for the men themselves. There will be a few seats reserved, for admission to which these tickets are intended; but I don't know that they will have many occupants. Mr. Alden and Miss Grace are going, so in any case you will have them for company, if you care to come."
"Oh, indeed, I want very much to go," replied Nora, eagerly, "and I think my brother will go, too, if he possibly can. He reads your paper regularly, and is much interested in your work."
"I am glad to hear it," he said. "I wish he could influence Mr. Pomeroy a little to be reasonable in meeting the reasonable requests of the men. I am afraid there may be trouble if he does not. We have been doing our best to stave off a strike, but it may have to come. By the way, that young fellow, Mason, seems to have a desperate grudge against young Pomeroy. One of our men says that there's a girl in the case,—that it's jealousy that makes him so set on mischief."
"Oh, impossible!" exclaimed Nora. "Mr. Harold Pomeroy is engaged to Miss Farrell, an intimate friend of mine."
"So I've heard," said he. "But that hardly proves the contrary. Young men do all sorts of silly and wicked things for a little amusement, I'm sorry to say," he continued, gravely. "And sometimes young ladies do so, too! However, there may be nothing in it. I only give it as I heard it."
Nora's mind had been going back to the things that Lizzie Mason had told her, in the beginning of their acquaintance. Was it possible that Harold Pomeroy could be the unknown "gentleman" who "turned Nelly's head with compliments and attention",—who had so upset Jim and poisoned poor Lizzie's piece of mind? The thought made her cheek burn with intense indignation. This would be worse than anything else.
Meantime Roland's thoughts had been taking a different direction; and he presently remarked: