"Oh, father, if it's money, I don't care a bit about it!"
"There she is," said my father, rising suddenly; "she is calling me. Wipe away your tears and run upstairs. To-night you must show a cheerful face—whatever happens in the future, you must be cheerful to-night. Off with you now, out of my sight. Believe me, I'd cut off my right hand to help you. Bye-bye for a bit, little sweetheart."
My father left me. After a time I heard the "toot" of the motor-car as it puffed out of sight. Then I started to my feet, clasped my hands, and stood considering. There was something about me which could never stand inaction. If I were to be saved now from deadly peril, I must act. I was terribly upset; I was awfully miserable. All of a sudden I came to a resolve. I rang the bell; one of the footmen answered my summons.
"I want you to bring me the cards of the different people who have called here during the last fortnight," I said.
"Yes, miss," replied the man.
He returned in a few minutes with a number of visiting cards on a salver. I sorted them out carefully, and presently came to Lord Hawtrey's. It bore the address of his club, one of the most exclusive and distinguished clubs in London, also the address of his big country seat—Leigh Castle—and in addition his town address, 24c, Green Street.
"Lord Hawtrey is kind; he is the only one who can save me," I said to myself. I made up my mind then and there to go and visit him.
CHAPTER XIV
At that moment I had no thought of either right or wrong. I was determined to go straight forward and appeal to a very generous and chivalrous man to help me; I thought he could do it, and I believed that no one else in all the world would. I ran quickly upstairs—what a comfort it was to know that Morris was nowhere in sight, how delightful was the sensation of putting on my own hat and jacket, of tying a scarf round my neck and slipping my hands into my gloves. It was also perfectly delicious not to be obliged to look even once into the glass—little did I care at that moment how I looked!