Before she found time to answer, another matter distracted her attention.
“Look! There's Mary, the housemaid, who was to stay up for me till I got home. She has come here for me.”
The servant stood by the door leading into the lobby, in a position enabling her to scan the faces of people coming out from the auditorium.
“Oh, Miss Amy, are you here? I was waiting for you to come out. Here's a telegram that came about a half-hour ago. I thought it might be important.”
Amy tore open the envelope.
“Why,” she said to Haslam, “this was sent to-day from Philadelphia to me at the Catskills, and my cousins have had it repeated back to me. And look—it's signed by you.”
“I surely didn't send it.”
But there was the name beyond doubt, “Henry Haslam, M.D.”
“This is a mystery to me, I assure you,” reiterated the doctor.
“But not to me,” cried Amy. “Read the message and you'll understand.”