“I’ve found the name, miss. Spelled just as you gave it to me. The number is away up town, in Harlem. But I’ll ring her up and see.”
Again the matron crossed the room, toward a queer looking arrangement on the wall; but, a new train arriving, the room so filled with women and children that she had no more leisure to attend to Margot. However, she managed to tell her:
“Don’t worry. I’ll be free soon again, for a minute. And I’ll tell that Indian to sit just outside the door, if you wish. You can sit there with him, too, if it makes you feel more at home. You’re all right now, and will not faint again.”
“No, indeed. I never did before nor shall again, I hope.”
Yet Margot was very thankful when she and Joe were once more side by side, and now amused herself in studying the crowds about her.
“Oh! Joe, there are more ‘types’ here in a minute than one could see at home in years. Look. That’s a Swede. I know by the shape of his face, and his coloring. Though I never saw a live Swede before.”
“Wonder if she ever saw a dead one!” said a voice in passing, and Margot knew she had been ridiculed, yet not why. Then, too, she saw that many glances were turned upon the bench where she and Joe sat, apart from the crowd and, for almost the first time, became conscious that in some way she looked not as other people. However, she was neither over-sensitive nor given to self-contemplation and she had perfect faith in her uncle’s judgment. He had lived in this great city, he knew what was correct. He had told her to ask the widow to supply her with anything that was needed. She had nothing to do now but wait till the widow was found, and then she could go on about the more important business which had brought her hither.
As she remembered that business, her impatience rose. She was now, she must be, not only within a few miles of her unknown father, but of the man who had wronged him, whom she was to compel to right that wrong. She sprang to her feet. The crowd that had filled the waiting-room was again thinning, for a time, and the matron should be free. Would she never come?
“Then I’ll go to her! Stay right here, Joe. Don’t leave this place a minute now till I get back. Then we’ll not lose each other. I’ll come for you as soon as I can.”
Joe grunted his assent and closed his eyes. He, too, was conscious of staring eyes and indignant at them. Had nobody ever seen an Indian before? Were not these clothes that he was wearing the Master’s gift and of the same sort all these other men wore? Let them gaze, if that suited the simple creatures. As for him he was comfortable. The bench was no harder than the ground. Not much harder. He would sleep. He did.