“I am here, my love—I am here!” answered a hushed and vehement voice below the window.
“I have called you three times,” she said.
“I must have been at the other end of my beat. I have been pacing the whole length of this building from one end to the other, and looking up to those windows—oh, how longingly!”
“Is all clear below this?”
“Yes, dear love.”
“Then wait there. I will be with you in a moment,” she said, and she withdrew from the window.
Her schoolmates, who had grown impatient at her long delay in hiding, were now clamoring for admittance at the closed door, which, however, they did not know was fastened.
“Why don’t you ‘whoop’ and let us in? Haven’t you hid yourself yet?” inquired one and another.
“No,” answered Alberta, going up to the door—“not quite yet; I shall in a minute. Don’t you be in such a hurry, and don’t come in until I whoop.”
“Make haste, then,” exclaimed several of the girls in a breath; “it is cold out here.”