She did not hesitate long. The picture of that poor nervous lady waiting and anxious just to see her arose in her mind, and she said:
“I will go, Mr. Legare, on two conditions. First, that you will drive past my boarding-house, so that I can leave word where I am going; next, that you will permit me to make my stay very brief at your house. Miss Scrimp, where I board, locks her doors at ten o’clock. I have boarded with her over two years, and have never been out of the house before after dark.”
“The conditions are agreed to. Mr. W—— shall see you safely home in my carriage by nine o’clock or half-past at latest. Now, come down and see my daughter, Lizzie, who waits to greet you.”
Hattie followed Mr. Legare, and Mr. W——, full of surprise, followed both. He had never reached the entree of that wealth-adorned house, though he had met young Legare at his club.
At the carriage Mr. Legare called “Lizzie,” and the sweet face of the young girl beamed out like that of a cherub, when, on Hattie being presented, she said:
“Jump right in here on the seat by my side, dear Miss Butler. Papa has talked so much about you that it seems as if I had known you ever so long.”
And when Hattie stepped in the little girl threw her arms around her with all the fervor of sweet sixteen, and kissed her.
Hattie could but respond to such a welcome, and she returned the salute.
Mr. Legare seated Mr. W—— on the front seat, and then sat beside him, and when the number of Miss Scrimp’s house was given, the driver started for it at a sweeping trot.
“Aunt Louisa will be so glad to see you, you good, dear beauty!” said Lizzie, clasping Hattie’s hand in hers. “We have been looking your drawings over and over, and there is one face there on which she dwells all the time. She says it fairly haunts her, and she wants to know if it is a portrait.”