“Yes,” answered Ethel. “Cousin Jane came into my room for a few minutes this morning.”
“Any idea where she is now?”
“No; but I can look for her,” and Ethel slipped into the drawing room, only to find Professor Norcross the sole occupant of it.
“Don’t let me disturb you,” she exclaimed, as he dropped his newspaper on seeing her. “I’m looking for Mrs. Ogden to tell her that luncheon is ready.”
“Let me find her for you——?”
“No, don’t trouble.” But Norcross stepped after her into the hall. “I imagine Cousin Jane is in the library,” and leaving the professor greeting Lois McLane and Walter Ogden, she entered the library. Her sudden entrance caused a man standing at the farther end of the room to dart unseen behind a tall screen.
Ethel reached the center of the large library before she became aware that Julian Barclay, and not Mrs. Ogden, was stretched on the large leather sofa, sound asleep. Ethel drew back, intending flight, but an overwhelming desire to see Barclay, to study his expression as he lay asleep, mastered her, and step by step she crept nearer until she stood at the head of the sofa, looking down at him.
Barclay showed the effect of sleepless nights. His eyes seemed more sunken, or the shadows under his eyelashes gave them that appearance, while deeper lines about his mouth and a graying of the black hair over the temples were indelible marks of strain and suffering. His dreams did not seem to be of the pleasantest, judging by the restless movement of his head, and the twitching of his hands.
Out in the hall Ogden waited with unconcealed impatience for his other guests and his wife to assemble for luncheon. Nor had Charles put in an appearance, although he had repeatedly rung the bell. Finally Lois could stand his nervous, almost furtive glances about the hall no longer.
“I’ll go and see what’s keeping Ethel,” she volunteered, edging toward the library door.