“No; send the word at once. We can talk it over afterward.”
There seemed to be no way out, so Granniss went off to do her bidding.
Even then, he had half a mind to pretend to send the word but really to withhold it. On reflection, he concluded he had no right to do this. But he remembered that Minna had not bound him to secrecy, though, of course, it was implied.
So with the letters to the Boston papers went also one to Pennington Wise begging him to come at once to investigate the remarkable case of Betty Varian, and telling him frankly of the strange letter just received.
That same afternoon a telegram came for Mrs Varian.
Granniss opened it, as was his custom, and its contents so surprised him that he nearly succumbed to the temptation to keep it from Mrs Varian.
But, he reconsidered, he had no right to presume on his position as confidential secretary, so with grave fears of its effects he handed it to her.
“Dear Mother,” it ran; “I am all right, and if you do just as you agree, I will soon be with you again. Please obey implicitly. “Betty.”
“From her!” Minna cried, and fainted.
Nurse Fletcher soon revived her, but she was in a shaken, nervous state, and could stand no contradiction or disapproval.