“Mr. Akerson, Mrs. White’s real estate manager. Have I the pleasure of addressing her niece?”
Dorothy assented with a quick nod of her head. “But we were not informed of her visit to your office,” she said quickly.
“Do just as you like,” said Mr. Akerson, coolly, “I get off here. I only thought it lucky to have had the pleasure of carrying out Mrs. White’s wishes. Don’t misunderstand me,” he added, “I did not start out to hunt through the New York shops for you, it was merely a happy coincidence that we met. Mrs. White ’phoned me after you left and merely mentioned that as she was coming down town she wished she could meet you. Well, I’ve an engagement on this block for five minutes, and then I return to meet Mrs. White in my office.”
He left the ’bus and the girls just stared!
“How did that man know us?” cried Dorothy, too astounded to think of any answer to her own question.
“I know how he knew me,” said Tavia, grimly. “But how did he know I knew? Oh, dear me, it’s all knows and knews; what am I trying to say?”
“Can people in New York sense relationship as folk pass by on top of ’buses?” questioned Dorothy, of the dazzling sunlight.
“Why,” queried Tavia, “should Aunt Winnie tell him that she wanted us to meet her at his office?”
“Or how,” demanded Dorothy, “did he happen to be in just this section of the city and jump on our very ’bus?”
“But Mrs. White may even now be waiting for us, anxiously hoping for our arrival,” exclaimed Tavia; “though of course she couldn’t guess he would meet us. It must be a strange chance, as he says.”