She turned questioning eyes on Mr. Newman.
He looked at some time-tables, of which he had several in his smoking room, and announced:
“You’d never get back until late—very late—by train. But if you feel you must be back in college before morning——”
“I do. Oh, yes, I do, Mr. Newman!”
“Then the only thing is for me to drive you there. We can make good time at night. I know the roads.”
“Oh, Mr. Newman! I couldn’t dream of——”
“Tut, tut, Sim! It’s the only way. I don’t mind. It will be a little diversion for me. I’ll have the chauffeur get the car out now. He can do the driving. I’ll sit and talk to you, and the way won’t seem so long.”
“Oh, Mr. Newman, you’re wonderful! Now I must phone Arden at once to be watching for me. Luckily our room is on the front of the dorm. How long do you think it will take?” Sim, getting up from the table, at the session of which she had much improved in spirits, was planning rapidly now. Perhaps all would yet be well.
“About three hours, I should say,” Mr. Newman answered. “It will be slow going from here until we get into New Jersey, and then we can make time. You ought to be back at college around midnight, though whether you can get in——”
“That’s why I must phone Arden or Terry. Oh, what a lot of trouble I’m causing!” Sim’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back.