“I never dreamed I was such a coward till that night—”
“You mislaid your courage—that was all—but you’ll find it again presently, and look here, Kitty! Until my brother finds something for you to do—”
“Oh, is he going to try?”
“John never tries—at least he never seems to; he just does. But never mind about that now. I was going to say that you can help me a bit, if you feel so disposed.”
“How? Tell me quick!”
“You used to type for your father, didn’t you?”
“Yes, yes! I must show you the work I did for him. I believe I was fairly smart, but after five years, I’m afraid—”
“You’ll knock off the rust in no time. You can work away on my old machine most mornings, and when you feel it coming easy I’ll give you plenty of manuscript, my own and other people’s, too, if you want it. How’s that?”
“All the difference in the world, for it means I shan’t be entirely useless. Oh, you have made me so happy!”
“Go on!” laughed Hilda. “I like being cuddled!” But there were tears in her eyes. “Goodness!” she exclaimed next moment, “there’s somebody coming up Jacob’s Ladder!”—as she designated the steep and narrow wooden staircase leading to the flat. “A man, I should say, from the tread. Shall we flee and tidy ourselves, or simply draw down the sun blind?” She rose and went to the window. “It must be the blind, I’m afraid. Matilda is unusually alert in answering the door to-day. Don’t be alarmed, Kitty. I’ve no friends who aren’t nice, and I want you to meet them all sooner or later. Now let’s arrange ourselves at our ease, and hope it may be a particularly nice one to begin with.”