“They would perhaps think of inquiring for the artist in case your mother recognizes the likenesses, as I do feel pretty confident she will, at least if she has a good memory for faces; for surely Mrs. Kemper’s, and yours as a baby, would be likely to be strongly impressed upon it. And we must go there very often, singly or together.”
“And trust to Providence to bring us there at the right moment,” she added thoughtfully.
A moment of silent musing on the part of both, and Ethel suddenly sprang to her feet.
“I will go there now—this moment!”
“And may I go with you?”
“Yes, yes; come!” and she started almost on a run.
“Floy, Floy, not quite so fast!” he said, exerting himself to keep pace with her. “You will be all out of breath, and have no strength to push through the crowd.”
She slackened her speed and took his offered arm.
“Yes, you are right; I shall have need of all my strength. But oh, if I should be a moment too late!”
“Try to be calm, dear Floy,” he said low and tenderly, gazing down upon the agitated face in loving solicitude. “You have been very brave and hopeful thus far, and are, I trust, soon to be rewarded for it all. But try to be calm and collected. You will need to have full command of yourself.”