The hood was thrown back, and Prince saw the shining black hair and black, audacious eyes of Kate Van Corlear.
“Don't ask any questions. I'm the doctor, and there's my prescription,” and she pointed to the half-frightened, half-sobbing Carry in the corner—“to be taken at once.”
“Then Mrs. Tretherick has given her permission?”
“Not much, if I know the sentiments of that lady,” replied Kate saucily.
“Then how did you get away?” asked Prince gravely.
“BY THE WINDOW.”
When Mr. Prince had left Carry in the arms of her stepmother, he returned to the parlor.
“Well?” demanded Kate.
“She will stay—YOU will, I hope, also—tonight.”
“As I shall not be eighteen, and my own mistress on the twentieth, and as I haven't a sick stepmother, I won't.”