There is a door near by, a hallway beyond. Someone stands just beyond this door—a woman, wearing a white apron and a lace cap, a jaunty bit of feathery material on top of her gray hair. He has had one or two glimpses of her before, and knows she has been employed in the rear room assisting the ladies to remove their wraps, a sort of femme de chambre.
Attracted by the words that escaped her lips, Aleck looks more closely at her face than he has done before. It is changed indeed, but he suddenly remembers that he talked with this woman not many hours before.
Again he looks—her eyes meet his gaze, and she shrinks back. He follows her, and just before she can enter the ladies’ dressing room, calls:
“I wish to see you, Adela.”
At the sound of that name she turns and clasps her hands. Upon her sad face comes a look so full of entreaty that the young Canadian is touched.
“Do not mention that name again under this roof, I beg. I admit I am the wretched woman you talked with, but do not betray me—I pray this by the memory of the mother you love,” she says feebly.
CHAPTER XVIII.
BY SPECIAL DELIVERY.
The words, the tone in which they are spoken, and what he knows of the woman cause Aleck to sympathize with her. At the same time he is surprised to find her in Samson Cereal’s mansion. A suspicion flashes into his mind that perhaps she is here for no good purpose, but he immediately dismisses it with scorn.
“What brings you here—I feel as though I had a right to ask?” he says.