“Are you warm enough?” he asked solicitously. “You have no extra wrap and the night air is chilly.”
Marian looked at him then glanced away. “I am very comfortable,” she murmured.
Palmer, who had chosen to take the vacant seat by the chauffeur in preference to trusting his weight on one of the small pivot chairs in the tonneau of the machine, addressed Burnham several times, but apparently his words were drowned in the rush of wind occasioned by the speed of the car, for Burnham made no response. A short time later the car drew up to the curb, and stopped before the Burnham residence.
Maynard was the first out of the machine and turned at once to help Marian. For a brief second her hand rested lightly on his arm, then was removed as she sprang to the sidewalk. Evelyn was no less quick in getting out and, not waiting to see what became of the others, she caught Marian by the elbow and hurried her into the house and upstairs.
Burnham was slower than the others in leaving the car. “Wait a second, Palmer,” he said, “I’ll send word if we need Dr. Hayden,” and, turning, he accompanied Maynard up the steps. His words were overheard by the anxious faced butler who had been on the outlook for the car and opened the front door when it first drew up to the curb.
“The doctor’s here, sir,” and Maynard was quick to detect the faint, very faint trace of accent in the man’s subdued voice.
Burnham faced about and called to Palmer: “Don’t wait, Palmer, thanks; Hayden is here. See you to-morrow,” and he waved his hand in farewell as the car moved off.
“Come in the billiard room, Maynard,” he said turning to his companion. “We might as well have a game until Hayden comes down——”
“Just a moment, sir,” broke in Jones, the butler. “There’s several gentlemen waiting to see you.”
Burnham halted. “Their names——”