The attendant appeared carrying pillows and rugs. “I don’t think you’ll be disturbed, Miss,” he said, ere he retired with the tray and the silver Hilda had laid on it.
Two minutes later she had Kitty tucked up on one of the seats.
“Now go to sleep without wasting a moment in worrying over what’s going to happen a few hours hence. We’ll manage nicely. Leave it to me.”
And Kitty left it. She was not used to being taken care of, but even the novelty of that experience did not long withstand slumber. In a few minutes she had forgotten it along with her weariness and woes.
* * * * *
As the porter took their things, Hilda whispered to Kitty—
“Don’t look about you; and if you happen to see him, don’t show it. Come along!”
Presently, they were driving westwards in an open taxi-cab. It was a lovely morning, and the air was delicious after the confinement of the long journey.
“What a nice country colour you have,” Hilda remarked, “but you’re not a country-bred girl, are you?”
“Why do you say that?”