Venna found her excitement giving way to a great calm. As oil thrown upon an angry sea stills the turbulent waters, so a great unseen influence pervaded the girl's being and quieted the tempest of her mind. She could not understand it, but was thankful.
Her great pallor startled the maid as they met at the door.
"Stella, Mr. Hadly will explain. I am hurrying to catch the next train to New York."
With these words, she ran upstairs, entered her room, and quickly dressed for the city. Before leaving, she stood for a moment in front of her father's picture, smiling down upon her.
"O God, help me!" she exclaimed piteously, but her eyes were tearless.
She quickly rejoined Hadly and together they started in his closed limousine. The storm had somewhat abated, but it still rained hard, and lightning continually flashed in upon them.
Protectingly he put his arm around her. She did not withdraw. It seemed natural now. She needed someone, anyone, to accompany her in her grief.
"How kind he is!" she thought, vaguely realizing this hour of trial was drawing them closer together.
Venna never fully remembered what was said on that trip to New York. Her mind was full of longing to get to her father, and she answered Hadley's constant remarks in monosyllables, scarcely realizing what he said.
His whole attitude was one of protecting ownership. So they rushed on to the great city which was to hold her first awful sorrow.