She was hustled into the elevator with a crowd of other people and the car almost immediately began to ascend.
“Floor! Floor!” the boy who manipulated the lever kept calling, and the passengers began to thin out rapidly after the fourth floor was passed.
“What floor, Miss?” he snapped at her.
“Mr. Gordon,” stammered Nancy, more than a little confused by the rush of it all. “Twelve-forty-four, the—the gentleman said.”
“Twelfth! Here you are!” and the car stopped with a jerk while the boy opened the sliding door with a flourish.
“Forty-four, to the right!” advised the youth, and immediately the car shot up the well out of sight.
The clang of the cage-door echoed through the empty corridor. There were rows of doors, with ground-glass panes, all painted in black or gold with the name of firms, or with the single word, “Private.”
For a minute Nancy hesitated. Somehow, her ears rang and she had to wink fast to keep back the tears. Yet it was merely nervousness. She knew of no reason why she should be frightened.
Surely her guardian must wish to see her! He probably was a very busy man—perhaps a man without a family. Maybe he lived at a hotel where he could not have his ward come to see him. That was why she had had to spend her vacations heretofore at Malden. Nancy thought of these things, and began to take courage.
She glanced along the corridor. “To the right,” the elevator boy had said. She took a few uncertain steps and came opposite Room 1231. Room 1244 must be near.