in the way of friends,
thinking over whom she cared to see. One of the first bits of news she had
heard on arriving in this country had been that Miss Loring's wedding was
to come off in a few days. It seemed to strike her like a thunderbolt, and
she was trying to arraign herself for this as she rode along. It was
therefore not helpful to her state of mind to have her grandmother remark
grimly:

"That feller o' yours 'n his oughtymobble has been goin' up an' down this
street, day in, day out, this whole blessed summer. Ain't been a day he
didn't pass, sometimes once, sometimes twicet. I felt sorry fer him
sometimes. Ef he hadn't been so high an' mighty stuck up that he couldn't
recognize me, I'd 'a' spoke to him. It was plain ez the nose on your face
he was lookin' fer you. Don't he know where you live?"

"I don't believe he does," said Elizabeth languidly. "Say, grandmother,
would you care to come up to Rittenhouse Square and live?"

"Me? In Rittenhouse Square? Fer the land sakes, child, no. That's flat.
I've lived me days out in me own sp'ere, and I don't intend to change now
at me time o' life. Ef you want to do somethin' nice fer me, child, now
you've got all that money, I'd like real well to live in a house that hed
white marble steps. It's been me one aim all me life. There's some round
on the next street that don't come high. There'd be plenty room fer us
all, an' a nice place fer Lizzie to get married when the time comes. The
parlor's real big, and you would send her some roses, couldn't you?"

"All right, grandmother. You shall have it," said Elizabeth with a
relieved sigh, and in a few minutes she went home. Some day pretty soon
she must think what to do, but there was no immediate hurry. She was glad
that Grandmother Brady did not want to come to Rittenhouse Square. Things
would be more congenial without her.

But the house seemed great and empty when she entered, and she was glad to
hear the friendly telephone bell ringing. It was the wife of her pastor,
asking her to come to them for a quiet dinner.

This was the one home in the great city where she felt like going in her
loneliness. There would be no form nor ceremony. Just a friend with them.
It was good. The doctor would give her some helpful words. She was glad
they had asked her.

CHAPTER XVII

A FINAL FLIGHT AND PURSUIT

"George," said Mrs. Vincent Benedict, "I want you to do something for me."

"Certainly, mother, anything I can."