“I have no time to see ladies. Tell her I'm very sorry, and bring me a sandwich and a whisky and soda.”
He thought she was some persistent actress in search of an engagement. Such phenomena are not infrequent in the overcrowded theatrical world.
“It 's a Miss Blake, sir, Mr. Risca's ward. She telephoned this morning, and asked when you would be likely to be in—”
“Miss Blake?”
He stood amazed. What was Unity doing in his house? It was only yesterday that he had seen her. What had happened?
“Where is she?”
“In the library, sir.”
He ran up the stairs. As he entered the room, Unity rose from the straight-backed chair in which she had been sitting and rushed to meet him. She was an eager and anxious Unity, still wearing the tartan blouse, but not the gorgeous hat of yesterday. A purple tam-o'-shanter hastily secured by a glass-headed pin, had taken the place of that extravagant creation.
“Oh, Mr. Herold, do you know anything about guardian?”
The eagerness faded from her face as she saw the perplexity on his.