“I’d rather you wouldn’t break a confidence,” Doris returned candidly.
“I know. But—” Clara hesitated again, “—I think I could tell you of the difficulty without naming the person. It would do no harm, Doris, I can assure you of that.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Doris made quick response.
Clara colored with pleasure. Doris’s confidence in her was gratifying. “The father of a certain student here has lost all his money. He is a Wall Street financier. He is going to be awfully poor for a while. This student I speak of will not be able to come back to Hamilton next year. Her father says she will have to be his secretary. She feels very badly about it. She’d like to complete her college course. I wish I knew a way to help her father financially. I told her that my father would lend her father some money, but she said he would not accept a loan from even a friend. I can’t think of any other way to help. Can you?”
“No; not this minute. But I will think it over. Perhaps I may hit upon a brilliant idea. I’ll see you tonight about it. Come to my room. We’ll have more time to talk things over. I must run along.” With a little farewell gesture Doris turned and ran toward Hamilton Hall, where she would make her next recitation.
While Clara continued to ponder the matter without success it haunted Doris, also. She was now positive that the student in question was Julia Peyton. She had heard that Julia’s father was a Wall Street “raider.” Leslie Cairns had gone to some pains to explain the term to her. Leslie—of course! The very one to know what should be done. Thought of Julia’s despicable part in the recent plot against Leslie’s welfare recurred to Doris. Leslie could hardly be blamed if she refused to consider helping Julia. Leslie, however, understood a great deal about the world in which her father had piled up millions. Doris decided with her usual calm judgment that Leslie should be in her room that evening when Clara came to it. Muriel would be away at the rehearsal of a play which Leila was directing. She would ask Clara in Leslie’s presence to tell Leslie what the red-haired girl had just told her.
When Clara stepped into Doris’s room that evening she cast an unconsciously disappointed look at Doris. She had not expected to see Leslie Cairns. Doris caught the glance, understood it and said instantly:
“Please don’t mind Leslie’s being here, Clara. I asked her to come. I wish you to tell her what you told me this morning. Her father is one of the greatest financiers in the United States, or in Europe, perhaps. Leslie knows a great deal about finance. She will surely find a way to help you.”
“I—I—you couldn’t help in this affair, Miss Cairns,” Clara burst forth in embarrassment. “It wouldn’t be possible for you to.”
“Why not?” Leslie turned a direct kindly glance upon the red-haired girl. “Please tell me. I know nothing of what it may be. I do know that I’d like to be of service. I have several years of pleasing no one but myself to make up for.” She smiled her grimly humorous smile.