"Perhaps I'd better not get out," she said. "Duke doesn't stand well. Can I see Mr. Edward Raymer for a minute or two?"
Raymer bowed and blushed a little. He knew her so well, by eye-intimacy at least, that he had been sure she knew him in the same way—as indeed she did.
"I—that is my name. What can I do for you, Miss Grierson?"
"Oh, thank you," she burst out, with exactly the proper shade of impulsiveness. "Do you know, I was really afraid I might have to introduce myself? I——"
The interruption was of Raymer's making. One of his employees appearing opportunely, he sent the man to the horse's head, and once more held out his hands to Miss Grierson.
"You must come in and get warm," he insisted. "I am sure you have found it very cold driving this morning. Let me help you."
She made a driver's hitch in the reins and let him lift her to the sidewalk. The ease with which he did it gave her a pleasant little thrill of the sort that comes with the realization of a thing hoped for. When she was not too busy with the social triumphs, strength, manly strength, was a passion with Miss Grierson.
Raymer held the office door open for her, and in the grimy little den which had been his father's before him, placed a chair for her at the desk-end.
"Now you can tell me in comfort what I can do for you," he said, bridging the interruption.
"Oh, it's only a little thing. I came to see you about renting a pew in St. John's; that is our church, you know."