"Never you let on
to 'em, any of your worries. The rich must not be annoyed," and pulled
herself together with a determined mental grip.

"It is good that, being so far away from home, you can be under the
care of your old nurse," observed Mr. Ronald thoughtfully.

"My old nurse," Claire mechanically repeated, preoccupied with her own
painful meditations.

"Martha. It is good, it certainly must be comforting to those who care
for you, to know you are being looked after by so old and trusted a
family servant."

Claire did not reply. She was hardly conscious he was speaking.

"When Martha first mentioned you to me--to Mrs. Sherman, rather--she
described you as her young lady. She has a very warm feeling for you. I
think she considers you in the light of personal property, like a child
of her own. That's excusable--it's commendable, even, in such a case as
this. I believe she said she nursed you till you were able to walk."

With a shock of sudden realization, Claire waked to the fact that
something was wrong somewhere--something that it was _up to_ her to make
right at once. And yet, it was all so cloudy, so confused in her mind
with her duty to Martha, her duty to herself, and to these people--her
fear of being again kindly but firmly put back in her _place_ if she
ventured the merest fraction of an inch beyond the boundary prescribed
by this grandee of the autocratic bearing and "keep-off-the-grass
expression," that she hesitated, and her opportunity was lost.

"I think I must go now," she announced abruptly, and rose, got past him
somehow, and made blindly for the door. Then there was the dim vista of
the long hall stretching before her, like a path of escape, and she fled
its length, and down that of the staircase. Then out at the street-door,
and into the chill of the cold December noonday.

When she had vanished, Francis Ronald stood a moment with eyes fixed in
the direction she had taken. Then, abruptly, he seized the telephone
that stood upon the table beside him, switched it to connect with the
basement region, and called for Mrs. Slawson.

"This is Mr. Ronald speaking. Is Martha there?"

"Yes, sir. Please hold the wire, and I'll call her."

"Be quick!"

"Yes, sir!"

A second, and Martha's voice repeated his name. "Mr. Ronald, this is
Martha!"

"Good! I want you to put on your things at once, and follow Miss Lang,"
he directed briefly. "I do not think she's sick, but as she was talking
to me, I