"If you know where she is, it will be greatly to her advantage if you will tell me," said Mr. Towle mildly.
"I don't know about that," mused Bertha Forbes. "Who, for example, are you? You're not her uncle."
"Thank you," said Mr. Towle astutely. "No; I am not a relative of Miss Blythe's. I am—er—merely a friend. But I beg to assure you that I have her best interests warmly at heart."
"Humph!—Well, I guess you have," admitted Miss Forbes, after a prolonged semi-official scrutiny of Mr. Towle's countenance, an ordeal which that honorable gentleman bore with the calm of conscious integrity. "But for all that I don't think I shall tell you where she is."
"Why not?" urged Mr. Towle, with an agitation which caused him to appear almost youthful.
"Because I'm sure she wouldn't thank me for it," said Bertha Forbes coolly. "Good day, sir."
"By heavens, madam, I'll not be put off like this!" declared Mr. Towle, very much in earnest. "I came to America on purpose to find her."
"Find her then," advised Miss Forbes, with tantalizing brevity. "I can't talk to you any longer to-day."
"To-morrow then?" Mr. Towle caught eagerly at the straw of suggestion in her last word.