Lucy nodded in confusion. She had an uncomfortable sense that she was not being quite frank with Jane.
“Martin would do ’bout anything for you, Miss Lucy,” the woman asserted in a sudden burst of confidence. “I——”
A cry from upstairs cut short the sentence.
“Lucy!”
“Yes, Aunt Ellen, I’ll be right there.”
“Go right up: I’ll finish things here,” whispered Jane hurriedly. “All is, if you want Martin to go for Melviny, you have only to say the word. You can wave a handkerchief out of the window, an’ he’ll understand.”
“Where does Miss Grey——”
“For the land sake don’t call her that. Nobody’d know who you meant, an’ she wouldn’t, either.”
“Well, Melviny, then—where does she live?”