So, in her loneliness and misery, her guardian’s words returned again and again to her memory: “Sometimes when things look all right they turn out to be all wrong. If ever there comes a time like that to you and Steve, remember you’ve got me to turn to.” The time had come when she must turn to someone.
She would never go to him; she vowed it. She would not accept his help if he came to her. But, if he was sincere, if he meant what he said, why did he not come again to proffer it? Because he was not sincere, of course. That had been proven long before. She despised him. But his face, as she last saw it, refused to be banished from her mind. It looked so strong, and yet gentle and loving, like the face of a protector, one to be trusted through good times and bad. Oh, this wicked, wicked world, and the shams and sorrows in it! “Malcolm, why don’t you come to me?”
Stephen uttered an exclamation. Looking up, she saw him hurrying toward the hall.
“Someone’s at the door,” he explained. “It’s Sylvester, of course. I’ll let him in.”
It was not the lawyer but a messenger boy with a note. Stephen returned to the library with the missive in his hand.
“He couldn’t get here, Caro,” he said, excitedly. “Wants us to come right down to his office. Hurry up! Get your things on. The cab’s waiting. Come! Rush! It may be important.”
The cab, an electric vehicle, made good time, and they soon reached the Pine Street offices, where they were ushered at once into the senior partner’s presence.
“Step into the other room,” said Mr. Sylvester, “and wait there, please. I’ll join you shortly.”
The room was the large one where the momentous conference between Captain Elisha and the three lawyers had so recently taken place. Caroline seated herself in one of the chairs. Stephen walked the floor.
“Hope he doesn’t keep us waiting long,” he fumed. “I thought of course he was ready or he wouldn’t have sent for us.”