“I shall expect an invitation here when your sister comes on, Mrs. Leslie. She is in Chicago now, I believe.”
“That is her home, but she is now traveling in California with a party of friends.”
California!
The mention of that far-away State sent a cold chill down his back.
Was it not the grocery man who had said the beautiful Mrs. Lester’s husband was in California?
Somehow he made the application, and the effect was a decided chill.
It was growing blacker for Joe.
“I shall take a run down and see if I can find Joe—he may be at my room waiting for me—who knows? Can I trust you to keep this matter from him, Mrs. Leslie—supposing this is all a mistake and that he is innocent, would you ever want him to believe that you harbored such suspicions?”
“No, no, I would not,” she sobbed.
“Then do your part—you can act it I am sure. Appear natural—show no unusual coldness or warmth of affection—try not to meet his eye or your own may betray you. If he insists on finding out what ails you, retreat in the usual plea of a headache.”