"Thank you," sighed the girl, "I must go and try again. I know I shall find him—soon." But, though she tried to speak in a tone of cheerful confidence, her shapely head drooped rather hopelessly.
"You mean you are going out on to the—to look for him again?"
"Why, of course," she answered, "I must find Arthur!"
"Don't, Hermy, don't—so pale an' tired as you are, don't go again!" pleaded Mrs. Trapes, her usual sharpness transfigured into a deep and yearning tenderness; even her voice seemed to lose something of its harshness. "Don't worry, my sweet, the b'y'll find his way home right enough, like he did last time."
"Like—last time!" cried Hermione, and shivering, she leaned against the wall as if she were faint. "Ah, no, no!" she whispered, "not—like last time!" and bowing her head she hid her face in her hands.
Close, close about that quivering form came two motherly arms, and Mrs. Trapes fell to passionate invective and tender soothing, thus:
"There, there, my love—my pretty, don't remember that last time! Oh, drat my fool's tongue for remindin' you, drat it, my dear, my honey! Ah, don't go breakin' your angel's 'eart along of Arthur, my precious—and drat him too! That b'y'll come back all right, he will—he will, I know he will. Oh, if I was only behind 'im with a toasting fork! There, there, Hermy dear, don't fret, Arthur'll come home all right. My honey, you're all tuckered out, an' here it's gettin' on to midnight, an' you to go to Englewood by the early car! Go to bed, dear, an' I'll sit up for Arthur. Only don't cry, Hermy—"
"Oh, I'm not crying, dear," said Hermione, lifting her head. "See, I haven't shed a tear! But I must find Arthur. I couldn't rest or sleep; I should lie listening for his step. So you see, dear, I must go out and find him!"
Hereupon, with swift, dexterous fingers, Hermione straightened the very neat hat which the embrace of Mrs. Trapes had rendered somewhat askew, and, turning to the door, came face to face with Mr. Ravenslee, and in his hand she beheld his battered hat, but she did not notice how fiercely his powerful fingers gripped it.
"Miss Hermione," said he, in his soft, indolent voice, and regarding her beneath languidly drooping lids, "pray accept the hospitality of my—er—apartment. You will find the easy-chair is very easy, and while you sit here with Mrs. Trapes, I'll find your brother and bring him here to you."