"Yes, sir. And she was that powerful anxious to see you, sir. I had hard work to keep her from coming with me. I did, sir. She's in the hall. And—it's raining outside, sir."
"Oh, good Heavens! Well, bring her in," capitulated the doctor in obvious desperation.
"Yes, sir." This time the words were scarcely out of his mouth before the old man was gone. In an incredibly short time he was back with a flushed-faced, agitated young woman carrying a sleeping child in her arms.
At sight of her, the doctor, who had plainly braced himself behind a most forbidding aspect, leaped forward with a low cry and a complete change of manner.
"Mrs. Denby!" he gasped. But instantly he fell back; for the young woman, for all the world like a tenpenny-dreadful stage heroine, hissed out a tragic "Sh-h! I don't want anybody to know my name!" with a cautious glance toward the none-too-rapidly disappearing Hawkins.
"But what does this mean?" demanded Frank Gleason, when he could find words. "Where's Burke?"
"Left you! Impossible!"
"Yes." She drew in her breath convulsively. "He says it's only to Alaska with his father; but that's just to let me down easy."
"Oh, but, Mrs. Denby—"