"How many hours will it take you?"
"Hours?" I repeated. "You would not like to start to-night, surely?"
"Yes," she answered, "I would gladly start to-night."
My patience was giving way very fast at this imperturbable obduracy. "Perhaps," I said, "you will give me some adequate reason for a haste that I cannot comprehend."
She did not answer. She was listening, with her head averted, and she held up her hand for me to listen also, as if that were her answer. Then there came through the open window the hoarse cry of a distant newsboy who was bellowing an "extra."
There was something weird in her attitude and action, connecting, as they did, her motives with that discordant, ominous cry.
"It's an extra," I said, as unconcernedly as possible. "I'll get a copy. There may be some good news for you," and I made a move toward the window.
"Don't," she said, quietly. "We were talking about going to Europe. Pa is not familiar with the business of securing passages, and you are. You could relieve him of a great deal of worry, and if you would go with us——"
"Kate," I said, "do you want me to go?"
"Yes, I do," she replied. "I do not want to leave you here."