Mrs. White laughed outright at this girlish speech. She had often heard the objection made to new “shiny things,”—that they looked as if some one had just died and left an insurance policy—but to apply the comparison to tall buildings was a new idea.
A crowded elevator brought them to the office of a law firm. Mrs. White wrote something on her card, and when the messenger returned from an inner room the lady was immediately ushered in—Dorothy and Miette remained outside, looking down on New York from a ten-story view point.
The legal business seemed of small consequence to Miette—she wanted to get out and look for Marie.
Finally the door to the inner room was opened and the two girls were asked to step inside.
“This is the young lady,” said Mrs. White to a man who sat at a desk that was littered with papers.
“Oh, yes,” he answered, looking first at Miette then at a document in his hand, as if making some comparison.
“And she left the boarding school with this young lady?” the lawyer asked, indicating Dorothy.
“Yes, my niece undertook to assist the child,” answered Mrs. White. “We are accustomed to Dorothy’s ventures, but she is young, and we have to be careful sometimes,” she added, with a look that Dorothy did not exactly understand.
“I see,” replied the gentleman, also smiling significantly, “Well, she is quite a—philanthropist. She ought to study law.”
Dorothy blushed at the compliment. Miette merely looked puzzled at the proceedings. What could this man mean? What did he know of her business? her eyes were asking.