"Another time, Dexter," he exclaimed under his breath, taking the old man by the arm and wheeling him around. As Mr. Pembroke walked him away, Clara heard Dexter croak:
"What is she here for, Mat Pembroke?"
When her uncle returned, his face was still dark and he said:
"Business necessities, Clara, that sometimes compel a man to tolerate disagreeable persons. I wouldn't have him near you, however."
"He is disagreeable, surely," responded Clara, "but I could have borne with him for your sake, uncle."
The subject seemed intensely disagreeable to Mr. Pembroke, and nothing further was said about it.
After breakfast Mr. Pembroke inquired the number of the house on Second Avenue from which Lizzie White had written, and they set out to find it.
"I shall have to leave you, Clara," said her uncle, "as soon as I am sure you have found the right place. I will call for you or I will put a carriage at your disposal."
"There is no telling how long I shall be," returned Clara, "and I don't see why you should need to inconvenience yourself. I have acquired more self-dependence during the last three or four days than I ever had before, and I think you can trust me to take care of myself. But I should think it would be well to have a carriage at command; and, uncle, all the expense I have been to thus far has come from my allowance. You will let me pay for a carriage, won't you?"
"If you prefer to," said Mr. Pembroke, "and we will engage one in the vicinity of the house as we can reach the place readily by a cross-town line of cars."