She handed the girl a card.
"I do not know him," answered May, wondering what a Canon of St. Paul's could have to do with the matter. "I know his name very well. Is he a relative of yours?"
"No, my dear, no relative, but a good kind friend of my late husband. The Canon has done a great deal for me, and among other things he allows me to refer anyone to him who may want to know anything about me."
"It is very kind of him," said May, not knowing what to say, what was meant.
"So, my dear," said the old lady, "you may call upon him or write to him, as you please."
The widow was plainly perplexed by May's rejoinder.
"I!" cried May; "I call on him!"
"Yes, my dear. I suppose there will be plenty of time before you give me the pleasure of your company permanently. When do you wish the room to be ready for you?"
The girl did not yet understand what the old lady meant by reference to the Canon of St. Paul's; but she had a sickening sense that something was going wrong.
"If--if," she faltered, "you would let me, I should like to stay this evening. I--I am anxious to get some place this evening, now."