you see when the cat’s away, how do I know what you play? It would be convenient if you happened to—”

“Oh, the devil,” said Hugh, as he tried to move.

“What is it? What hurts?” asked Miss Frink anxiously.

“I don’t know, my shoulder, I guess. What’s doing, anyway?” inquired the sufferer feebly, beginning to realize his satin environment.

“You caught the horses and were dragged. Don’t you remember? You saved my life.”

[32]

[32]

Slowly Hugh cerebrated while his pensive eyes gazed up into the dark ones.

“And I’m so thankful to hear you speak, I could weep if I ever did, but I don’t indulge.”

John Ogden came floating back into the dazed, aching head, and all that had preceded his coming here.

“What did he call you just now?” asked Hugh with feeble incredulity.

“Miss Frink. I’m Miss Frink,”—with energy, “and I don’t want to die, and you saved my life.”

At this Hugh moved his head a little in the encircling satin, and he made an inarticulate sound. It was feeble, but it was trying to be a laugh, and Miss Frink appreciated the beauty of it.

“Yes, it is sort of funny saving an old woman, isn’t it, instead of a lovely young girl as it would be in the story-books?”

“I was thinking—” said Hugh. “Are you—Susanna?”

“Why, yes. How did you know it?”

“Because I have a letter of introduction to you—that’s why I laughed.”

“I should think you might,” dryly. “You are certainly introduced.—Grim,” sharply, “what are you doing!” The secretary’s feelings[33] were such that he had increased his speed and jounced over a rough spot that made Hugh wince.

[33]

 Prev. P 19/179 next