“I don’t think so, Miss Fordyce,” Kathryn Allen’s smile was most engaging. “I am sure I should not have forgotten.” And the subtle admiration of Janet’s good looks and pretty gown conveyed by her intonation, caused the young girl to flush warmly. “Do not distress yourself on your mother’s account; Dr. Potter and Dr. McLane both declare her attack comes from overexertion. Rest and absolute quiet are all that she needs to effect a complete recovery.”
“Oh, thank you, nurse,” and Janet, much relieved, ran down the staircase.
A disagreeable smile spoiled Kathryn Allen’s good looks as she watched Janet disappear from view; then with an impatient sigh, she continued her interrupted trip down the hall toward the bedroom which had been assigned to her. As she reached the elevator shaft the door opened and a man stepped out into the hall.
“You, Joe!” Though startled out of her usual calm, Kathryn was careful to keep her voice lowered. “What are you doing here? How dare you take such a risk?”
“The risk is small,” he answered cautiously. “I pushed the wrong button and never discovered my mistake until the lift stopped at this floor,” a satisfied smile completed the short explanation. “I had to see you, Kathryn. Why did you come here?”
“I gave up my other case yesterday, as you know,” tartly. “I can’t afford to be idle. At the hospital I found Dr. McLane’s call for a nurse to take a light case, and came here. Money is money, dear boy.” She did not think it necessary to add that she had considered the opportunity of becoming an inmate of the Fordyce household a God-given chance.
“You should have consulted me first,” fumed Joe, displeased at the lightness of her manner. “I only found out by chance from McLane that you were here. Have you seen the evening paper?”
The urgency of his tone impressed her. From above came the sound of advancing footsteps.
“Quick, this way,” she muttered, and pulled him into the deep shadows afforded by a bow window and its curtains.
Downstairs in the Chinese room Janet waited for her brother and Paul Potter with ever growing impatience. The thick soft carpet deadened the sound of her restless trampling back and forth. She could not keep still. She fingered the rich oriental hangings, scanned the valuable jade and carved ivory ornaments in the glass cabinets; then turned her attention to the collection of Chinese armor occupying its allotted space, and traced with curious fingers the beautiful handiwork on the scabbards and daggers and carefully inspected the naked blades themselves. The atmosphere of the room was heavy with the incense of the East. Mrs. Fordyce had selected the room as her own private sanctum in preference to the larger library, and spent all her evenings there in the absence of Janet and Duncan. Her fondness for things oriental had been indulged by her husband, who had spent a small fortune collecting costly furniture, curios, paintings, and silks from China to gratify her whim.