"Oh, no, thank you, I'll not come in," she smiled. "I only brought father, that's all. And—oh, I do hope he can do something," she faltered unsteadily. And Susan saw that her eyes were glistening with tears as she turned away.
In the hall Susan caught the doctor's arm nervously.
"Dr. Parkman, there's somethin'—"
"My name is Stewart," interrupted the doctor.
"What's that? What's that?" cried Susan, unconsciously tightening her clasp on his arm. "Ain't you Dorothy Parkman's father?"
"I'm her stepfather. She was nine when I married Mrs. Parkman, her mother."
"Then your name ain't Parkman, at all! Oh, glory be!" ejaculated Susan ecstatically. "Well, if that ain't the luckiest thing ever!"
"Lucky?" frowned the doctor, looking thoroughly mystified, and not altogether pleased.
Susan gave an embarrassed laugh.
"There, now, if that ain't jest like me, to fly off on a tandem like that, without a word of exploitation. It's jest that I'm so glad I won't have to ask you to come under a resumed name."