“I told him that you were the most wonderful man I’d ever seen, and that I would not give you up. But, doctor dear, where are you going to hide me? He’ll be here after me any minute!”
“I’m not going to hide you at all!” cried Andrew. “It’s all nonsense!”
“Oh, but you must!” she cried. “You can’t be so horrible, when I’ve been so loyal to you.”
“There’s no reason for hiding, you silly child! You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Oh, but papa thinks so! He told me not to dare to see you again. He says it’s all your fault that I won’t marry Edward. He says you’ve put all sorts of awful ideas in my head. Oh, doctor! There’s the door-bell now! I know it’s father! Oh, don’t let him get me! He says he’ll send me to a convent!”
She had clutched his arm frantically and was looking into his face with brimming eyes.
“Oh, please, please hide me!” she cried. “Just till I can think of some sort of plan!”
He faltered and weakened. At last he opened the door of a clothes-closet.
“Lock the door and keep quiet,” he said. “I’ll see if I can get him away.”
After an earnest look around to see that she had not left any trace of herself—hat, gloves, or other incriminating articles—the doctor opened his office door, and there stood Mrs. Hamilton. She looked very pale and ill.