"She is with Mr. Kendrick. She has hardly left his side to-day. She gave ten minutes to Moon Ying--it's a blessing that our little protégée is getting able to help herself--and she gave about as much more to looking after the house. The rest of the day she has spent with her uncle."
"I should say, then, that it was about time she took some rest."
"Well," said Mercy, rising, "I hope you can convince her of it. I'll tell her you are here." And she left me alone.
It was ten minutes before the door opened and Miss Kendrick entered. I greeted her with some surprise, for she was dressed as though she had just come in from the street.
"Oh, you needn't look so astonished," she said, as she gave me her hand with a tired smile. "I haven't been out of the house to-day, so I thought I'd enlist your services as cavalier. I'm dying for a breath of fresh air."
"I'm glad to find you with some spirit left. I was afraid you would be dead."
"I am," she returned, leading the way out of the door. "But I shall be alive after a little walk. I don't like being a ghost, but it's much more tolerable than one would suppose before trying it."
She was in no mood to make conversation, and walked by my side for a while without speaking. But there was such an air of confidence in her manner, such unspoken expression of comradeship in her attitude, that I was content to follow her example and find satisfaction in the silent communion and feel delight at the pressure of her hand upon my arm. We had walked a few blocks thus before she said, with an abruptness that startled me:
"Tell me about to-day."
I had been thinking of far more agreeable things than business, but I recovered myself from the momentary confusion into which I was thrown, and replied: