"Very well, miss."
"Now hide," commanded the girl in a whisper, as soon as Peterson had gone to the front door, where Mr. Sullivan had been kept waiting, as the butler evidently thought the caller did not look like a person to be admitted to the hallway until
he had showed his credentials, or until he had been authorized to come in by some member of the family.
Larry got behind the curtain. No sooner had the folds ceased shaking than Mr. Sullivan entered the library. Larry could see him, though the young reporter himself was hidden from view. Grace remained standing.
"You wished to see me?" she asked in formal tones.
"Yes, Miss Potter," and Larry noted that Sullivan was ill at ease. "I called about your father."
"Do you know where he is?"
"No, Miss Potter. How should I?" and Sullivan looked quite surprised.
"Then why did you come?"
"I came for some information, miss."