"God knows I do, dear friend!" she said earnestly.
The young girl carefully bolted the door after him, and, returning to the window, stood looking after her attorney until he disappeared from view. The weather was threatening. Big drops of rain, driven slantwise by gusts of wind, were making the passers-by run hastily to cover.
She was sorry he had spoken. Never had she dreamed that he thought of her in that way. She was sorry for him, because he deserved to be happy. She was grateful to him, but in her heart she knew well that it was useless to hold out any hope. She could never love him. It was too bad that he had spoken. Now their relations would not be so pleasant. There would be embarrassment on both sides. The delightful friendly intimacy of the past must cease. She had lost her best friend.
Was any girl so unfortunate and so unhappy before? Here she was locked up in this depressing boarding house, afraid to go out for fear that her uncle might try to kidnap her and do her some harm. For some unexplained reason she felt horribly nervous and low-spirited. Whether it was because Mr. Ricaby had left her all alone she did not know, but she felt herself growing more and more nervous. If only Tod would come to cheer her up. Suddenly, as she stood looking disconsolately through the window, her gaze became riveted on a figure which she noticed standing in a doorway opposite. It was a man with a slouch hat pulled well down over his eyes, and it seemed to her that she recognized Dr. Zacharie. He appeared to be watching the house. Instinctively, she shrank back and when she looked again he had disappeared.
She laughed nervously to herself. How foolish she was! Why should Dr. Zacharie watch the house? She was surely mistaken. No doubt it was some stranger sheltering from the rain. If she kept seeing things like that she would soon make herself ill. With a forced effort at gaiety she essayed to throw off her melancholy by humming a song, but soon stopped, unable to continue. Sitting down at the piano, her fingers had just touched the keys when all at once there was a knock at the door. Paula rose and opened. It was Mrs. Parkes.
"You're wanted at the telephone, my dear," said the landlady.
"Who is it?" demanded Paula.
"Mr. Chase."
Paula hesitated.
"Mr. Chase—I—I can't go—make some excuse."