Betty winced, for her visitor had this time clasped her hand until the pressure of its hard surface hurt.
"You know it would be the greatest thing that ever happened for me to be allowed to stay here a week," he added.
And Betty laughed. "Then stay."
As she opened the front door another visitor stood waiting on the outside. He was almost as unexpected as Anthony Graham. For it was Herr Crippen, the German music professor and Esther's father.
"What on earth could he want?" Betty thought irritably. She was beginning to feel anxious to get upstairs to her mother again. For in spite of the fact that she now believed that she had a real affection for Esther, she had never been able to recover from her first prejudice for this shabby, hesitating man. Then his manner toward her was always so apologetic. Why on earth should it be? She was always perfectly polite to him. What a queer combination of Thanksgiving visitors she was having!
"Gnädiges Fräulein," he began. And Betty ushered him into the drawing room. For perhaps he was bringing her news of Esther.
CHAPTER III
HER PENSION
"Good luck never rains but it pours, as well as bad luck, mother," Betty Ashton said one morning nearly a week later. She had just put down a big tray of breakfast on a small table before Mrs. Ashton and now seated herself on the opposite side.