"Yes, of course."
"Good-night, then."
"Good-night—till morning."
He distinguished a funny little sound, like a suppressed giggle, and in a clear, final tone came a last "Good-night, my friend!"
Then he heard her receiver click in its socket, and the decided tinkle of the bell shut him off. But he did not care. He was still her "friend." He would be with her all to-morrow. His interests and hers were identical, and nobody should interfere without a struggle on his part.
Not that he meant anything overt, or aggressive. Only he would make himself so necessary she could not do without him.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
VISITING THE SHUT-INS.
Poor Nate fretted in confinement, but not for his own sake. He simply ignored his surroundings, not deigning to complain, or scarcely to notice; but sought every opportunity to ask eagerly after the welfare of Lucy and her little family. He overwhelmed Mr. Barrington with questions, somewhat to the bewilderment of the old gentleman, who could not distinctly grasp the idea that Nate was self-constituted protector in place of the man he was accused of murdering.