"I guess I will, miss."
"By the way, what was the address of that boarding-house?"
"Persia Street. I misremember the number, but it's writ down in my Bible. I'll get it," and she hobbled up a back stairway.
Chelda glanced once at the title-page of the shabby volume held open before her, and with an assumption of perfect indifference took the tray that Rebecca made ready for her, and went to Mr. Huntington's study.
"Who is there?" he asked when she knocked.
"Chelda," she replied, in a soft, low voice.
He immediately threw open the door and presented to her his flushed face and burning eyes.
"May I come in? I have brought you something to eat."
"You are very kind," he said, but there was no gratitude in his tone.
"We have missed you;—the table is nothing without you," she said, gently.