“I have had an anxious day, but this makes up for everything,” he said. “Now—and it is so long since I have seen you—can’t we, for just a few minutes, forget our troubles?”
He held out his hand, as though to lift her down, but the girl turned her eyes on him and what he saw in them checked him suddenly.
“No,” she said, with a tremor in her voice, “we can’t get away from them. You must not ask any question until you have heard everything!”
She spoke with a swift conciseness that omitted no point and made the story plain, for there was a high spirit in the girl, and a tangible peril that could be grappled with had a bracing effect on her. Grant’s face grew intent as he listened, and Hetty, looking down, could see the firmer set of his lips, and the glint in his eyes. The weariness faded out of it, and once more she recognized the alert, resourceful, and quietly resolute Larry she had known before the troubles came. He turned swiftly and clasped her hand.
“I wonder if you know how much you have done for me?”
Hetty smiled and allowed her fingers to remain in his grasp. “Then, you have heard nothing of this?” she said.
“No,” said the man. “But Hetty——”
Again the girl checked him with a gesture. “And I need not ask you whether you would have had a hand in it?”
Grant laughed a little scornful laugh that was more eloquent than many protestations. “No,” he said, “you needn’t. I think you know me better than that, Hetty?”
“Yes,” said the girl softly. “You couldn’t have had anything to do with that kind of meanness. Larry, how was it they did not tell you?”