Burton made no answer. He was now chiefly anxious to hurry Leslie from an unpleasant scene. But again they were interrupted. Mr. Hadley came puffing after them, with every sign of anxiety in his face.
"Say, Miss Leslie," he began breathlessly, "I didn't mean what I said about not being safe in our beds. You won't mention that to your father, will you? I don't want to get him set against me. I'm sure he wouldn't harm me for the world. I know I'm perfectly safe in my bed, Miss Leslie."
She swept him with a withering look of scorn, and hurried on without a word.
"You see," she said to Burton.
"Yes, I see. It is simply intolerable."
"How can they believe it?"
"I think your father should know what is being said. May I go home with you, and report the affair to him?"
"I shall be thankful if you will."
"You really mean that, don't you? Of course I know that I am nearly a stranger and that I may seem to be pressing into purely family matters. But apart from my interest in anything that concerns Philip, I shall be glad on my own account if I can be of any help to you in a distressing situation."
"Thank you," she said gravely. And after a moment she added, with a whimsical air that was like her father's: "It would hardly be worth while for us to pretend to be strangers, after turning our skeleton-closet into a guest-chamber for you. You know all about us!"