Mrs. Coolidge and Isabel ignored her departure entirely, and did not show themselves, much to Brownie’s relief.
As Wilbur, with clouded brow, and white, compressed lips, assisted her into the cab, he asked:
“Where to, Miss Douglas?”
“To the ‘Washington’ for the present. It is a good hotel and has a familiar sound, which seems quite homelike,” she answered, trying to smile, but he saw that her lips quivered.
She felt inexpressibly desolate and forlorn.
“Then if I address a note to you there within a few days or a week, you will get it,” he said.
“Yes.”
“May I call?”
“No, Mr. Coolidge, I prefer you should not; it would be wiser not to do so at present,” Brownie answered, gently, but firmly.
She knew if she gave him permission, it might lead him to hope, and, besides, it might cause her further trouble if his mother and sister should discover that he was visiting her.