"The driver knows his route, I presume," was answered.
"This is not the way, I am sure," said Mrs. Emerson, a slight quiver of alarm in her voice.
"Our drivers know the shortest cuts," replied the major, "and these do not always lead through the most attractive quarters of the town."
Mrs. Emerson shrunk back again in her seat and was silent. Her heart was throbbing with a vague fear. Suddenly the carriage stopped and the driver alighted.
"This is not my home," said Mrs. Emerson, as the driver opened the door, and the major stepped out upon the pavement.
"Oh, yes. This is No. 240 L—— street. Yes, ma'am," added the driver, "this is the number that the gentleman told me."
"What gentleman?" asked Mrs. Emerson.
"This gentleman, if you please, ma'am."
"Drive me home instantly, or this may cost you dear!" said Mrs. Emerson, in as stern a voice as surprise and fear would permit her to assume.
"Madam—" Major Willard commenced speaking.