“Cert. Florence Lee. Twenty years old. From Missouri. Been working in New York three years. Live in Brooklyn. Anything else? Want to see my vaccination certificate?”
“No, what you have said is sufficient for the present. I only wanted something to go on. I am a scientist. My work is chiefly in connection with the ocean. I am about to start for Europe on what will undoubtedly be my last trip. Ordinarily, my daughter would go with me, but she desires to get married. I must have some one in her place.”
Miss Lee paused in the act of raising an olive to her lips. “I ain’t a trained nurse,” she objected tentatively.
“I don’t want a trained nurse,” returned the Professor, with a show of spirit. “I have sought you out because you look very much like my daughter. What I want you to do is to take her place and her name; to pretend to be she; and to go to Europe with me. We may be gone six months. You shall have everything my daughter would have had and be treated exactly as she would be treated. Will you go?”
But Miss Lee was past speech. With mouth agape, she stared at the old man. Anything can happen in New York, but this went beyond her experience.
“Well, if that ain’t the limit!” she murmured, at last. “Say, when did you come out of Bellevue?”
“Bellevue?”
“The psychopathic ward. Gee! it must be a lovely world you live in—till the pipe goes out.”
Dimly the Professor understood that he was being mocked. “I am not jesting, young lady,” he explained, with dignity. “I may add that when the trip is over I will bring you back to New York and give you a thousand dollars.”
The girl’s eyes burned into his. “I am not for sale,” she answered briefly. “Don’t think it, grandpop. There are plenty that are. Go after them.”