"You bet, mister; she's a daisy too." And as he folded the bill and carefully placed it in his vest pocket, he gave an accurate description of Amy.
Whitley, dismissed the boy and seated himself to watch through the half-closed door, the room across the hall. He had not long to wait. Amy stepped out into the corridor and started toward the stairway. In an instant Whitley was by her side. The girl gave a start of surprise and uttered a frightened exclamation.
"Don't be frightened, Miss Goodrich, I have very important news for you from home. Step into the parlor please."
Too bewildered to do other than obey, she followed him.
"I have been searching for you all day," he said, as he conducted her to a seat in the far corner of the empty room.
Amy tried to look indignant and started to reply when he interrupted her.
"Wait a moment, please, Miss Goodrich, and hear me, before you condemn. When your father discovered this morning, that you had left home, he came at once to me and told me the whole story. I tried to explain to him that it was I, and not Falkner, who had been with you, but he would not listen; and in spite of my pleading, declared that you should never enter his home again. I am sorry, but he is very angry and I fear will keep his word, for a time at least. He even accused me of telling falsehoods to shield you, and insisted that I should forget you forever and never mention your name in his hearing again. I learned at the depot that you had purchased a ticket to this city, and took the first train, hoping to find and offer you any assistance that might be in my power to give. A girl in your position needs a friend, for you cannot go home just now."
In spite of herself, Amy was touched by the words spoken with such seeming truth and earnestness, but her heart was filled with anger at her father, and her face was hard and set as she replied coldly: "I thank you, but you might have saved yourself the trouble. I have no wish to go home."
"Indeed, I do not see how you can feel differently under the circumstances," admitted the other with apparent reluctance; "but have you thought of the future? What can you do? You have never been dependent upon yourself. You know nothing of the world."
Amy's face grew white. Seeing his advantage, Whitley continued, drawing
a dark picture of a young woman without friends or means of support.
At last, as he talked, Amy began to cry. Then his voice grew tender.
"Miss Goodrich—Amy—come to me. Be my wife. I have long loved you.
I will teach you to love me. Let me comfort and protect you."