“Just this way a moment,” he said. “Now, madam, I have a word of advice which you are at liberty to take or not. Your daughter seems to be in a dangerously nervous state. I will tell you plainly where we found her. It seems that Mr. Allen and Miss Fletcher have fallen in love with each other, and have come to an understanding. We happened upon them, sitting together very properly, as lovers should, in the apple orchard back of Mr. Whitman's, and your daughter stood there watching them. She is very nervous. If you take my advice you will lose no time in getting her away.”
Mrs. Ayres stood and listened with a cold, pale dignity. She waited until Meeks had entirely finished, then she spoke slowly and evenly.
“Thank you, Mr. Meeks,” she said. “Your advice is very good, so good that I have proved it by anticipating you. My daughter is in a very nervous condition. She never fully recovered from a severe attack of the grip.”
Mrs. Ayres lied, and Meeks respected her for it.
“We are to start before long for St. Louis, where my brother lives,” continued Mrs. Ayres. “I am going to rent my house furnished. My brother is a widower, and wishes us to make our home with him, and we may never return here. I was obliged to go on an errand to the store, and when I came home I missed Lucy and was somewhat anxious. I am very much obliged to you. We are going away, and I have no doubt that an entire change of scene will restore my daughter entirely. Yesterday she had a sick headache, and is still suffering somewhat from it to-day.”
“That woman lied like a gentleman,” Meeks said to Henry when they were on their way home. “Good Lord! I was thankful to her.”
Henry was regarding him with a puzzled look. “Do you think the poor girl is in love with Mr. Allen, too?” he asked.
“I think she is in love with love, and nothing will cure that,” said Meeks.
Chapter XVIII
Henry looked more and more disturbed as they went down the street. “I declare, I don't know what Sylvia will say,” he remarked, moodily.