"Oh, Aunt Enid!" she cried in instant remorse. "Just look what she's
given me! Her string of pearls! The ones she wore in the portrait! And
just think of what I've been saying about her. I'm a beast, a regular
little beast!"
And with characteristic impetuosity she flung herself on Miss Enid's neck
and burst into tears.
CHAPTER 6
The sun was getting ready to set on Sunday afternoon when a tall,
trim-looking figure turned the corner of the street leading to the
Martels' and broke into a run. In one hand he carried a large suit-case,
and in the other he held a bead chain wrapped in tissue-paper. In the
breast pocket of his uniform was a paper stating that Quinby Graham was
thereby honorably discharged from the U.S.A.
Whether it was his enforced rest, or his state of mind, or a combination
of the two, it is impossible to say; but at least ten pounds had been
added to his figure, the hollows had about gone from his eyes, and a
natural color had returned to his face. But the old cough remained, as
was evident when he presented himself breathless at the Martels' door and
demanded of Cass:
"Has she gone?"
"Who?"
"Miss Bartlett.
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