"You are Miss Hitchcock," Alves said quickly. "Won't you come in?"
"How did you know!" Miss Hitchcock exclaimed, and added without waiting for a reply: "Let's sit here on the steps—the sun is so warm and nice. I've been a long time in coming to see you," her voice rippled on cordially, while Alves watched her. "But we've been out of the city so much of the time,—California, North Carolina, and abroad."
Alves nodded. The young woman's ease of manner and luxurious dress intimidated her. She sat down on the step above Miss Hitchcock, and she had the air of examining the other woman without committing herself.
"But, how did you know me?" Miss Hitchcock exclaimed, with a little laugh of satisfaction.
"Dr. Sommers has told me about you."
"Did he! He didn't tell any one of his marriage." The bluntness of the speech was relieved by the confidential manner in which Miss Hitchcock leaned forward to the other woman.
"It was sudden," Alves replied coolly.
"I know! But we, my father and I, had a right to feel hurt. We knew him so well, and we should have liked to know you."
"Thank you."
"But we had no cards—you disappeared—hid yourselves—and you turn up in this unique place! It's only by chance that I've found you now."