"Don't tell her Barbara's here. It'll be a jolly surprise."
Tottie agreed, and with a quick movement caught the silk shawl from her own shoulders and covered the child.
CHAPTER VI
Clare ran all the way, with scared eyes, and heaving breast, and a hand clutching the rim of the tilted hat. And only when she reached the corner nearest home did she slow a little, to look behind her as if she feared pursuit. Then finding herself breathless, she stepped aside for a moment into the entrance of an apartment house, and there, under the suspicious watch of a negro elevator boy, pretended to hunt for something in her music-roll.
As she waited, she remembered that there was some laundry due her in the basement. That must be collected. She walked on, having taken a second look around, and darted under the front steps to make her inquiry. She promised to call for the articles in ten minutes by way of the back stairs; then slowly ascended the brownstone steps, glancing up the street as she climbed, but as indifferently as possible.
Once inside the storm door, she listened. Someone might be telephoning—they knew her number at the Rectory. Or Tottie might have a visitor, which would interfere with plans.
She heard no sound. Letting herself in noiselessly, she tiptoed to the parlor door and opened it softly.
"Hello-o-o-o!" It was Hull, laughing at the surprise they had for her.
"Felix!" She halted, aghast.
"Well, aren't you glad to see me?"