thoroughfare where Amherst awaited her. He hung back a moment, and she was amused to see that he failed to identify the uniformed nurse with the girl in her trim dark dress, soberly complete in all its accessories, who advanced to him, smiling under her little veil.
“Thank you,” he said as he turned and walked beside her. “Is this your way?”
“I am staying in Oak Street. But it’s just as short to go by Maplewood Avenue.”
“Yes; and quieter.”
For a few yards they walked on in silence, their long steps falling naturally into time, though Amherst was somewhat taller than his companion.
At length he said: “I suppose you know nothing about the relation between Hope Hospital and the Westmore Mills.”
“Only that the hospital was endowed by one of the Westmore family.”
“Yes; an old Miss Hope, a great—aunt of Westmore’s. But there is more than that between them—all kinds of subterranean passages.” He paused, and began again: “For instance, Dr. Disbrow married the sister of our manager’s wife.”
“Your chief at the mills?”
“Yes,” he said with a slight grimace. “So you see, if Truscomb—the manager—thinks one of the mill-hands is only slightly injured, it’s natural that his
[ 8 ]
