He went up into the attic room—and there, much to his amazement and delight, he was confronted by Bonnie May.
She blushed with confusion and looked at him almost guiltily.
“Back so soon!” he exclaimed.
“Why, it seemed to me I was away quite a long time.”
“Well, yes—I suppose I’ve been rather busy.” He looked about for the manuscript, which seemed to have been removed. “Did you find it pleasant at the Thornburgs’?” he asked. He was succeeding now in getting back his habitual, quiet manner.
“Oh, yes. Quite pleasant.”
“That’s nice. I somehow imagined they might persuade you to stay a little longer.”
“No, when I said I ought to be coming home, she sent to the garage and had the automobile brought around for me.”
Baron nodded. “And she wasn’t disappointed, then?”
“She was very nice about it. She asked me to come again. She told the man that any time I telephoned to him he might come with the machine and get me—here, you know. Any afternoon. It seems Mr. Thornburg never uses the machine in the afternoons, and she doesn’t care for it herself. She was just as nice as she could be. And of course I’m going back. But you know I really belong here.”