“I could not do otherwise. The little creature was and is, wild to return to her benefactress. I thought possibly, under the circumstances, that Miss Fronde might reconsider her resolution to have nothing further to do with the child, and reflect that the orphan’s abduction was her great misfortune rather than her fault.”
“You are mistaken. Miss Fronde formed no such determination. If you recall the terms of my telegram, you will find that I merely said that Miss Fronde could not interfere in the case of the child. And, in fact, sir, she had no right to do so.”
“No right? May I be permitted to ask why she had no right?” Harcourt inquired.
The lawyer dismissed the question with a wave of his hand and said:
“I am by no means sure, however, that since the little one has been lost, and found again, Miss Fronde may not be willing, and even well pleased, to receive her back again. She was certainly very fond of little Owlet. However, that can be easily ascertained, as Miss Fronde is now in Washington.”
“In Washington!” echoed Harcourt, as his heart bounded and sank at the thought that his loved and lost Roma was now so close within his reach, yet so unapproachable—forever unapproachable by him.
“Yes. She arrived here by the late train from the West last night. She was on her way when I answered your telegram, which was the reason why I could not communicate with her. She is en route for the Isle of Storms, which she is turning into a sanitorium for destitute invalids and children. She leaves to-morrow by the early boat for the Isle. So, if you feel inclined to try the experiment, you had better take the child to her this evening. You will find her at her old quarters, the Wesleyan Flats, in the northwestern suburbs of the city.”
Harcourt had not been able to put in a word until now.
“Ah!” he sighed, “I have not time. My train leaves at seven, and it is now after six. I dare not miss a train while my mother lies at the point of death. No—nor to tell the bitter truth—dare I present myself to Miss Fronde.”
The lawyer suddenly looked grave and stern again.