"She has been quite ill," said Hetty, non-committally. "We got in yesterday. I thought my place was here, naturally."
"Naturally," repeated Vivian, in a detached sort of way. "How is she to-day? May I see her?"
"She is very much better. In fact, she is sitting up in her room." A warm flush suffused her face, a shy smile appeared in her eyes. "She is receiving two gentlemen visitors, to be perfectly honest, Miss Wrandall, her lawyer, Mr. Carroll, and—Mr. Booth."
They were seated side by side on the uncomfortable Louis Seize divan in the middle of the room.
"Perhaps she won't care to see me, after an audience so fatiguing," said Miss Wrandall sweetly. "And so exasperating," she added, with a smile.
Hetty looked her perplexity.
"But she will see you, Miss Wrandall—if you don't mind waiting. It is a business conference they're having."
An ironic gleam appeared in the corner of Vivian's eye. "Oh," she said, and waited. Hetty smiled uncertainly. All at once the tall American girl was impressed by the wistful, almost humble look in the Englishwoman's eyes, an appealing look that caused her to wonder not a little. Like a flash she jumped at an obvious conclusion, and almost caught her breath. This girl loved Booth and was losing him! Vivian exulted for a moment and then, with an impulse she could not quite catalogue, laid her hand on the other's slim fingers, and murmured somewhat hazily: "Never mind, never mind!"
"Oh, you MUST wait," cried Hetty, not at all in touch with the other's mood. "Sara expects to see you. The men will be out in a few minutes."
"I think I will run in to-morrow morning," said Vivian hastily. She arose almost immediately and again extended her hand. "So glad to see you back again, Miss Castleton. Come and see me. Give my love to Sara."