I freed myself from the embrace as soon as I could. I didn't feel like the best man in the world. I felt like a Quixotic fool.
Fortunately I was too busy for the next hour to think of my feelings. Hephzy went in to arrange for the transfer of the invalid to the cab and to collect and pack her most necessary belongings. I spent my time in a financial wrangle with Mrs. Briggs. The number of items which that woman wished included in her bill was surprising. Candles and soap—the bill itself was the sole evidence of soap's ever having made its appearance in that house—and washing and tea and food and goodness knows what. The total was amazing. I verified the addition, or, rather, corrected it, and then offered half of the sum demanded. This offer was received with protestations, tears and voluble demands to know if I 'ad the 'art to rob a lone widow who couldn't protect herself. Finally we compromised on a three-quarter basis and Mrs. Briggs receipted the bill. She said her kind disposition would be the undoing of her and she knew it. She was too silly and soft-'arted to let lodgings.
We had very little trouble in carrying or leading Little Frank to the cab. The effect of the doctor's powders—they must have contained some sort of opiate—was to render the girl only partially conscious of what was going on and we got her to and into the vehicle without difficulty. During the drive to Bancroft's she dozed on Hephzy's shoulder.
Her room—it was next to Hephzy's, with a connecting door—was ready and we led her up the stairs. Mr. and Mrs. Jameson were very kind and sympathetic. They asked surprisingly few questions.
“Poor young lady,” said Mr. Jameson, when he and I were together in our sitting-room. “She is quite ill, isn't she.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “It is not a serious illness, however. She needs quiet and care more than anything else.”
“Yes, sir. We will do our best to see that she has both. A relative of yours, sir, I think you said.”
“A—a—my niece,” I answered, on the spur of the moment. She was Hephzy's niece, of course. As a matter of fact, she was scarcely related to me. However, it seemed useless to explain.
“I didn't know you had English relatives, Mr. Knowles. I had been under the impression that you and Miss Cahoon were strangers here.”
So had I, but I did not explain that, either. Mrs. Jameson joined us.