"I wish I could find some way to have them meet accidentally.
"Let's make a scheme, Daphne. Your father is going to Chicago next week, and he told me that his brother—I guess he means this Jim—would take his place with me. Now, why can't I get in some kind of trouble—that's always easy for me—and I'll telephone him to come over right away, and then you come in by chance with this young lady. Tell her that I'm a feeble old lady that needs some one to cheer her up. Tell her anything that'll git her here."
"She'll come. I've told her about you and she said she wanted to come to see you."
"It's easy then, and we'll trust to something turnin' up right."
Daphne rose to go.
"You're a—a—brick, Miss Doane."
Drusilla shook her finger at the girl.
"Young lady," she said severely, "I know where you got that. Dr. Eaton."
Daphne's pretty face flushed and she put her cheek against the faded one.
"We must not talk of—of Dr. Eaton. Father doesn't allow it, and—and Dr. Eaton thinks I'm only a flighty little girl, who is never serious, if he ever thinks of me at all—which I am afraid is not often—" She was quiet a moment, her hand resting against the soft white hair. "But—well, good night. I'll let you know when Mary will come, and then you can get into trouble right away."