Mary remained in joyous spirits after her victorious matching of brains against a lawyer of high standing in his profession.For the time being, conscience was muted by gratified ambition.Her thoughts just then were far from the miseries of the past, with their evil train of consequences in the present.But that past was soon to be recalled to her with a vividness most terrible.
She had entered the telephone-booth, which she had caused to be installed out of an extra closet of her bedroom for the sake of greater privacy on occasion, and it was during her absence from the drawing-room that Garson again came into the apartment, seeking her.On being told by Aggie as to Mary's whereabouts, he sat down to await her return, listening without much interest to the chatter of the adventuress....It was just then that the maid appeared.
"There's a girl wants to see Miss Turner," she explained.
The irrepressible Aggie put on her most finically elegant air.
"Has she a card?" she inquired haughtily, while the maid tittered appreciation.
"No," was the answer."But she says it's important.I guess the poor thing's in hard luck, from the look of her," the kindly Fannie added.
"Oh, then she'll be welcome, of course," Aggie declared, and Garson nodded in acquiescence."Tell her to come in and wait, Fannie.Miss Turner will be here right away." She turned to Garson as the maid left the room."Mary sure is an easy boob,"she remarked, cheerfully."Bless her soft heart!"A curiously gentle smile of appreciation softened the immobility of the forger's face as he again nodded assent.
"We might just as well pipe off the skirt before Mary gets here,"Aggie suggested, with eagerness.
A minute later, a girl perhaps twenty years of age stepped just within the doorway, and stood there with eyes downcast, after one swift, furtive glance about her.Her whole appearance was that of dejection.Her soiled black gown, the cringing posture, the pallor of her face, proclaimed the abject misery of her state.
Aggie, who was not exuberant in her sympathies for any one other than herself, addressed the newcomer with a patronizing inflection, modulated in her best manner.
"Won't you come in, please?" she requested.
The shrinking girl shot another veiled look in the direction of the speaker.
"Are you Miss Turner?" she asked, in a voice broken by nervous dismay.
"Really, I am very sorry," Aggie replied, primly; "but I am only her cousin, Miss Agnes Lynch.But Miss Turner is likely to be back any minute now.""Can I wait?" came the timid question.
"Certainly," Aggie answered, hospitably."Please sit down."As the girl obediently sank down on the nearest chair, Garson addressed her sharply, so that the visitor started uneasily at the unexpected sound.
"You don't know Miss Turner?"
"No," came the faint reply.
"Then, what do you want to see her about?"There was a brief pause before the girl could pluck up courage enough for an answer.Then, it was spoken confusedly, almost in a whisper.
"She once helped a girl friend of mine, and I thought--Ithought----"
"You thought she might help you," Garson interrupted.
But Aggie, too, possessed some perceptive powers, despite the fact that she preferred to use them little in ordinary affairs.
"You have been in stir--prison, I mean." She hastily corrected the lapse into underworld slang.
Came a distressed muttering of assent from the girl.
"How sad!" Aggie remarked, in a voice of shocked pity for one so inconceivably unfortunate."How very, very sad!"This ingenuous method of diversion was put to an end by the entrance of Mary, who stopped short on seeing the limp figure huddled in the chair.
"A visitor, Agnes?" she inquired.
At the sound of her voice, and before Aggie could hit on a fittingly elegant form of reply, the girl looked up.And now, for the first time, she spoke with some degree of energy, albeit there was a sinister undertone in the husky voice.
"You're Miss Turner?" she questioned.
"Yes," Mary said, simply.Her words rang kindly; and she smiled encouragement.
A gasp burst from the white lips of the girl, and she cowered as one stricken physically.
"Mary Turner! Oh, my God! I----" She hid her face within her arms and sat bent until her head rested on her knees in an abasement of misery.
Vaguely startled by the hysterical outburst from the girl, Mary's immediate thought was that here was a pitiful instance of one suffering from starvation.
"Joe," she directed rapidly, "have Fannie bring a glass of milk with an egg and a little brandy in it, right away."The girl in the chair was shaking soundlessly under the stress of her emotions.A few disjointed phrases fell from her quivering lips.
"I didn't know--oh, I couldn't!"
"Don't try to talk just now," Mary warned, reassuringly."Wait until you've had something to eat."Aggie, who had observed developments closely, now lifted her voice in tardy lamentations over her own stupidity.There was no affectation of the fine lady in her self-reproach.
"Why, the poor gawk's hungry!" she exclaimed! "And I never got the dope on her.Ain't I the simp!"The girl regained a degree of self-control, and showed something of forlorn dignity.
"Yes," she said dully, "I'm starving."
Mary regarded the afflicted creature with that sympathy born only of experience.
"Yes," she said softly, "I understand." Then she spoke to Aggie.
"Take her to my room, and let her rest there for a while.Have her drink the egg and milk slowly, and then lie down for a few minutes anyhow."Aggie obeyed with an air of bustling activity.
