"Is she— Oh— Is she—drunk?"
Burke calmed her with the reassurance of his low, steady voice.
"No, Miss Mary. She was drugged by those rascals, and I saved her in time. Please don't cry, or make a noise. Let me take her upstairs and help you. It's better if she does not know that I was the one to bring her home."
Mary tried to help him; but Bob carried the girl on into the hall.
"Is your father awake?"
"No; I told him two hours ago, when he asked me from his room, that Lorna had returned and was asleep. He believed me. I had to fib to save him from breaking his dear old daddy heart. Is she injured at all?"
It was plainly evident that the poor girl was holding her nerves in leash with a tremendous effort.
Bob kept on toward the stairs.
"She'll be all right when you get her into her room. Give her some smelling salts, and don't tell your father. Didn't he hear the bell?"
"No; I've been waiting for her. I put some paper in the bell so that it would only buzz when it rang. Let me help you, Mr. Burke. How on earth did you——" She was eager in spite of her anxiety.