“Then let me go home,” Amy cried, panic-stricken by the thought of another interview with the resourceful Taylor. “I shall break down if I stay here.”
“That will be best,” Ethel agreed, and went quickly to the door, behind which she found Duncan on guard.
“Sorry, miss,” he said respectfully, “but you can’t go.”
“I’m not leaving,” Ethel Cartwright explained, “I still have to talk with Mr. Taylor, but my sister must go. She isn’t feeling very well. She wants to go home.”
Duncan shook his head. “Neither of you can go,” he returned, as he closed the door. Amy looked about her nervously for other means of escape.
“You see,” she whispered, “they’re going to keep me here a prisoner! What shall I do?”
“Leave everything to me,” Ethel commanded. “Let me do the talking. I shall be able to think of some way out.”
“There isn’t, there isn’t!” Amy moaned.
“Stop crying,” the elder insisted. “That won’t help us. I’ve thought of a plan. I’ll invent a story to fool him. He won’t be able to find out whether it’s true or not, so he’ll have to let us go, and when he does, he won’t get us back here again in a hurry.”
“Oh, Ethel, you’re wonderful!” Amy exclaimed, her face clearing. In all her small troubles she had always gone to this beautiful, serene elder sister, who had never yet failed her and never would, she was confident.