"Ho! Slawson's gone to New York, has he?" Dr. Ballard exclaimed. "Well, I'm off for Boston, myself, to-morrow. I'm on my way now to tell—Madam Crewe."
Martha nodded.
"Certaintly you are. You'll find Miss Katherine on the back porch, if you hurry. But the ol' lady makes her close the house at nine sharp, so you've not much time to waste on me. Good luck to you, sir. A safe journey, an' quick return."
The doctor chuckled as she left him.
"That woman's a case!" he said to himself, but under the stimulus of her suggestion he hurried his steps.
"Going to Boston?" Katherine repeated, her brows contracting in a troubled, triangular way which always gave a touching, childlike look to her fine eyes. "Isn't that rather sudden? You didn't tell me anything about it this afternoon—down Cherry Lane."
"No, I'd not made up my mind then. The resolve came later."
"You'll return?"
"Oh, yes. Very soon, if I get what I'm going after. Less soon, if I don't."
Katherine turned her face away.