“Nearly eight! Oh, Nan will be crazy! She said I’d get lost!”
The lady smiled. She was beginning to believe Helen’s story, though at first she had felt wary.
“I am Mrs. Lummis,” she said. “I live here and have lived here a long time. I’m sorry for you, and I’ll keep you over night. I won’t say, with pleasure, for as a matter of fact it will put me out considerably. But I’ve a little too much humanity to turn you out in this storm.”
Helen overlooked the coldness of the courtesy, in her relief at having found a safe, if not very hospitable shelter.
“I’m terribly sorry,” she said; “I hate to put anybody out——”
“It seems to be a question between putting me out,—or, putting you out!” laughed Mrs. Lummis, “and I think it might as well be me. Come into my little drawing-room.”
Helen followed her into a small but prettily furnished room and Mrs. Lummis helped her take off her wraps.
“Now wait a minute, and we’ll ferret out the mystery.”
The hostess took a telephone book from a stand. “What’s the name of the friend you’re after?”
“Mrs. Wheeler, but she has a private wire. You can’t get her number. I had it but I lost it, and Central positively refused to tell it to me.”