“I’ll run over to lunch, dear.”
“Very well, Mr. Arburton.”
He looked at her with a peculiar smile.
“What’s the matter, love? Are you offended?”
“Oh, dear, no! I’m a little—a little confused, that’s all. I’ll go and call on mother. I’ll feel better—for a walk.”
“Yes, do. Take the trolley back to town.”
She did, and the moment she reached the broad avenues of the upper city she left the car and stood irresolute on the sidewalk.
“I wish I had been more observing. Let me see. There was a row of trees on each side, and the houses were all of Milwaukee brick.”
She wandered up and down several streets and avenues looking for the colonial villa.
“It was so stupid in me not to know the street and number of our own house. If I knew that I could ask a policeman. I declare, I was never so turned round in my life. This looks like the neighborhood—and yet—”