“When I do come back, I—I—will just have to ask you something—Linda, my dear. I know I shouldn’t—I am a poor man—but—” He hesitated, and leaning over, pressed a kiss on her hand. Then, without another word, he put her into her autogiro.
Her heart in a turmoil, Linda mechanically started her motor and flew away. Lord Dudley’s meaning was clear, but what was the answer? Could she possibly decide so quickly whether she loved him or not, whether she was ready to give up everyone else for his sake, even her own country, to cast her lot with his? It was too much to think about; she was thankful when she reached home to be able to put the question aside in favor of Amy’s problems.
She ran up the steps hopefully, wondering whether there was any news, and she found Amy and Mike in their bathing suits and rain coats, all ready for a swim.
“Haven’t you heard anything?” she demanded eagerly. “No phone calls?”
“Only from other reporters,” sighed Mike, and Amy suddenly burst out crying.
“I must be an orphan,” she sobbed. “That is why you and Miss Emily seem so wonderful to me, Linda. I am sure that I never knew anybody like you in my past life.”
“Don’t give up yet, dear. If you had been in an orphan asylum, the authorities would have claimed you long ago. Maybe your family is poor, and can’t get the money immediately. Please don’t cry—you don’t have to make a pool of tears like Alice in Wonderland to swim in. There’s a marvelous lake this side of the falls!”
“Alice in Wonderland!” repeated Amy, slowly. “I’ve heard of her.”
“Of course you have. I’ll hunt up a copy of the book, and see what it recalls to you. Now if you wait five minutes for me, I’ll get into my bathing suit and go along with you!”
Fifteen minutes later the three young people parked the roadster at the shore of the lake, and joined the others in bathing. Linda introduced both Mike and Amy to everybody, so that the strangers felt quite at home.