"I would do anything for her happiness," thought Cecilia, "even that." And then she closed her eyes and asked to be strong.
When she opened them she saw a golden streak across the floor. The sun was up.
CHAPTER XIII
A REQUEST
"Miss Cecilia——" said Stuyvesant Twombly into the telephone which stood on his desk. His heart hammered so that his ears ached, and the furniture in the room swayed and bent.
"I want to ask you a favour," he heard. "It matters a great deal to me, and, well, to——" she stopped.
"Yes?" he said, aware that his voice was crisp. He had not meant to have it so, but his voice, when Cecilia was near, did as it pleased.
"It's about John," he heard her say very quickly. "He—you know he cares a great deal about you, and that you influence him greatly. You did more than any one else ever has for him."
"I'm sure," interrupted K. Stuyvesant, "I'm glad. I don't mean that," he blurted out; "I mean——"
"I understand," said Cecilia; "I telephoned you to ask you if you wouldn't come to the house sometimes because of him? I—I'm not home very much. The—the little incident of the boat is quite forgotten——"