What a strange
old man! And this was Mr. Balm of Gilead's father!
She was still in the dark as to why he had sent for her. But it must
be on account of the fire. His curiosity was very funny. In any one
except Peter's father she would have considered it ridiculous. Maybe
he wanted to work up a good "story" in the newspapers. Very likely it
could be turned into an "ad" for the Hands if the cousin of an English
earl had saved a fellow employee from burning up, and it would be
still more thrilling if the heroine might some day turn into a haughty
Lady Winifred Something. She shook her head, looking charming. Even
old Peter, staring so intently, must have admitted that.
"There's not the remotest chance," she replied. "Our cousin, Lord
Glenellen, has six sons. Four are married and having more sons every
year. I don't know how many there are. And I'm sure that they've
forgotten our existence."
"Well, there ain't much show for you in that connection!"
Mr. Rolls reluctantly abandoned the earldom. "What's your father,
anyhow?"
"A clergyman," said Win. "A poor clergyman, or I should never have
seen America."
"I suppose you'd have married some fellow over there.
Pages:
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422