"Poor girl! She's had nothing to eat," she thought, and, a moment later, she joined Hester in the bedroom.
Thus it came about that when Robert Baxter, in brilliant color and fine spirit, burst into the library a few minutes later, eager to see Betty Thompson, he found the big room empty. But there on the davenport were signs of a recent feminine occupation, suede gloves, a smart traveling hat and veil, and a lizard skin bag with silver monogram. Betty was evidently somewhere about, and the young fellow settled himself down to wait. He must talk to Betty, he must explain that he hadn't meant to hurt her feelings the other day at Brighton. He was only having a joke with her—why, he wouldn't hurt her feelings for the world.
As the young man glanced about the library his eyes fell on the little volume of Marcus Aurelius, and, taking it up carelessly, he came upon the letter shut within its pages. He had no thought of prying, indeed, he had no idea to whom the book belonged, and, before he realized what he was doing, he had read his own letter.
"By the Lord Harry!" he muttered, and the hot blood rushed to his face as he understood what this meant. That dear girl! His Betty! To think that she had kept that letter! He remembered seeing her crumple it up and throw it in the waste basket. She must have stooped down and picked it out again—and smoothed it—and folded it—and kept it. His plucky little pal! His Betty!
Bob rose and strode unhappily about the room. What a fool he had been not to recognize Betty! Couldn't he have seen that she was no ordinary secretary? My God! A child would have understood. And the worst of it was he had liked her all the time, he had looked at her and wondered about her, and—and then he had gone and made a silly idiot of himself with Kate Clendennin. It was sickening.
Bob had just brought himself to this state of righteous penitence and self-abasement when the door from Betty's chamber opened, and Betty herself appeared. She was stronger and happier now from having cheered and strengthened a disheartened sister woman. She was resolved to give Hester Storm this one last chance that she begged for to make good. She would try to save the girl from prison. She would hide her for a few hours, until Grimes had gone. This much she had promised sacredly to the pleading penitent, and she would keep her word.
At the sight of Betty, Bob went toward her eagerly, holding out his hands.
"Betty! Betty!" was all he could say.
"There!" she said, smiling happily and giving him her hand. "It's all right, Bob; it's all right."
"No, no, it's all wrong," he insisted.