"Nelson Randolph of the Paper Company."
"Oh, yes!" she cried, "that's all right."
"Where will you have it? On this side?"
"I—guess so—" She looked around. "Yes, here'll be a good place."
"All right, ma'am! Another man 'll be up to do the wiring. I'm only putt'n' on the loop. Orders were to rush it through—that's why I'm so early." He grinned. "Hope I haven't disturbed you, ma'am."
She assured him that she was not in the least disturbed. She drew down the shades and turned back to the room. It was not yet six o'clock.
A telephone of her very own! Delightful possibilities loomed before her through all her dressing. No more dreading of stormy days when she would be shut in the house; no more fears to torture her in the wakeful hours of the night. Help and protection would be hers at call!—And she could talk with Polly! She wanted to dance for very joy. And only two days ago her heart was aching! She felt as if it would never ache again.
At breakfast she heard many surmises regarding the strange noises about the building, before the workmen on the L were there. She decided to keep silent unless she were asked. It would be known early enough.
The electrician had come and gone, leaving on a table by the window the little instrument which seemed to its happy possessor to be almost alive. She stood looking at it and wondering how soon it would be in working order, when Mrs. Albright came in.
At once she saw the telephone, and stared in astonishment.