Later, I sought her out. She looked up at me amusedly from the window-seat in our living-room, where she had been talking to the Scherer girls.
"Well, how did you get along with Hilda?" she asked. "I thought I saw you struggling."
"She's somewhat disconcerting," I said. "I felt as if she were turning me inside out."
Nancy laughed.
"Hilda's a discovery—a genius. I'm going to have them to dinner myself."
"And Adolf?" I inquired. "I believe she thought you were preparing to run away with him. You seemed to have him hypnotized."
"I'm afraid your great man won't be able to stand—elevation," she declared. "He'll have vertigo. He's even got it now, at this little height, and when he builds his palace on Grant Avenue, and later moves to New York, I'm afraid he'll wobble even more."
"Is he thinking of doing all that?" I asked.
"I merely predict New York—it's inevitable," she replied. "Grant Avenue, yes; he wants me to help him choose a lot. He gave me ten thousand dollars for our Orphans' Home, but on the whole I think I prefer Hilda even if she doesn't approve of me."
Nancy rose. The Scherers were going. While Mr. Scherer pressed my hand in a manner that convinced me of his gratitude, Hilda was bidding an affectionate good night to Maude. A few moments later she bore her husband and daughters away, and we heard the tap-tap of her cane on the walk outside….