“What!” I exclaimed. “We are to be inspected by a philanthropist any moment?”
“Yes,” she said, with a laugh. “So you had better get out your papers and look busy.”
“Who is this benefactor?” I inquired, as I hastily made the most of our slender correspondence.
“I can't remember his name; but he is something in the city. Very rich, of course.”
“And if he refuses to help?”
“Then we must shut up shop, I suppose,” she answered, with a smile that was very charming even if somewhat inappropriate to this sad contingency. “Shall you be sorry?”
“Disconsolate!” I said, with more emotion than my employer had shown.
The door opened and the head of our grimy caretaker appeared.
“A gentleman to see you, miss,” she said.
“Show him in,” said Kate.