No one would have recognized the detective’s prim, old-fashioned-looking traveling companion as merry little Fly-away Floy. Her disguising costume was foreign in style, in fact, had been worn by her mother on her return from England.
CHAPTER XXX.
“’TIS HOME WHERE’ER THE HEART IS.”
“I can no longer wonder at my mother’s enthusiasm,” thought Alva Beresford, on first beholding Floy.
It was not yet midnight when Floyd Landon arrived at the Fifth Avenue mansion with his charge.
He knew that it was late to intrude, but under the peculiar circumstances of the case, he deemed it best to waive ceremony and go at once to the house.
His arrival was timely, for Miss Beresford was just leaving her carriage on returning from a wedding-reception. She was in magnificent evening-dress, and the sheen of her diamonds fairly dazzled Floy’s eyes as she gazed at the beautiful belle, while her features, so like those of her brother, made her fond heart leap wildly in her breast.
Floyd Landon presented his charge with a few explanatory words, and Miss Beresford was exceedingly gracious.
“So good of you to bring her to me at once,” she cried, as she pressed Floy’s little hand. “Now, you must come into the house and tell me all about it,” she added, eagerly.
“I thank you, but the hour is late, and you must be weary after the evening’s pleasure. I will postpone the telling until another time, if you will permit me,” answered Floyd Landon, anxious to get home to his wife, whom he had left ailing when he went away that day.