"Why, I'll be glad to do anything, of course," began Patricia, in surprise.
"I was sure you would. I read it in your face. That is why I ask," Madame Vanderpoel hurried on. "I am called away to New York this morning on the most urgent business—something that cannot be postponed. Unfortunately, my dear little charge, Virginie, Mademoiselle de Vos, is quite miserable—a violent nervous headache; she is subject to them frequently, poor little soul! I dread to leave her alone all day in the care only of that stupid chambermaid, yet my business is such that I simply cannot postpone it. Would it be imposing too much on your kindness to ask you to stop in there occasionally, just for a moment or two, to see that she is as comfortable as possible? You are, I believe, just across the hall from us, so it would not be a long journey."
"Why, I'll be delighted to!" agreed Patricia, heartily. "I'll sit with her just as long as she cares to have me. Don't worry about her at all. I'm famous as a nurse, too, for my mother never has been very well, and I'm used to waiting on her."
"Oh, thank you so much!" breathed Madame Vanderpoel, seemingly much relieved. "I'll be so much easier in mind. I leave almost at once after breakfast. Go in as soon as you like. Just knock at the door and open it. I'll leave it unlocked. I can never repay your kindness."
"That solves the problem of my day for me, Daddy," remarked Patricia, when they were back in their rooms. "I'll stay around here and visit Virginie de Vos (My! but I'm glad I know her name at last!) every little while. I've been real anxious to meet her, and didn't know how I was going to get the chance."
But the captain frowned a little doubtfully. "It's all right, I suppose, and you couldn't very well refuse, but I rather wish you didn't have to come in contact with any strangers here. They may be all right—and they may not. These are queer times, and you can't trust any one. Get Mrs. Quale to go in with you, if possible, and don't stay there more than fifteen minutes at any time."
Patricia opened her eyes wide with astonishment. "Well, of all things! You don't suspect people like that of—of anything queer, do you?"
"I suspect no one, and trust no one in this entire establishment except, of course, Mrs. Quale. But don't get another attack of 'spies' on the brain, just because I warned you to be ordinarily cautious. It's probably all right. I'll be back by eight o'clock, anyway. Now, good-by, honey, and take care of yourself."
Patricia waited until nearly ten o'clock before essaying her first visit to the sick girl across the hall. Then, obedient to her father's injunction, she called up Mrs. Quale on the house telephone, to ask if that lady would find it convenient to accompany her. But the clerk at the desk informed her that Mrs. Quale had gone out for the day, leaving only her maid. Patricia had seen this woman several times, quiet, elderly, and noticeably hard of hearing, and who, Mrs. Quale said, had been in her service for many years. So Patricia was left with no alternative but to make her first venture alone.
"I'm sure Daddy wouldn't want me to neglect the poor little sick thing, even if Mrs. Quale isn't there," she told herself as she knocked at the door of number 404, across the hall.