“And I am Mrs. Van Schaick’s trained nurse?” she asked, ruminatively.
“Yes, Miss Annie Seabrooke, remember!”
“But the others—the servants—won’t they know me?”
“You were engaged in Mamaroneck; not one of the city servants has seen your face.”
“But it will be eleven and after—was my train delayed?”
“No, not delayed; but you took a later train.”
She was silent for a minute or two, as she probed deeper into the suit-case.
“You haven’t promised!” she murmured, her face still low over the womanly white linen, and the little cap and apron and uniform which she was gently shaking out before her.
She rose to her feet and turned to him.
“I promise you—anything!” he cried, in the teeth of all his inner misgivings. He followed her to the open window.