"Dat's Dr. Graham, sah; I knows dat ring ob his," said the valet
quickly. "Dat mean, sah, you doan' call on no sister dis ebenin'."
CHAPTER IX.
THE PLEA OF MISS JENNINGS.
When Faith Marvin entered her mother's four-room flat on the top floor
of a dingy brick building she was almost out of breath from indignation
and rapid walking.
She tried to calm herself a little before her mother saw her, for Mrs.
Marvin was on the verge of nervous prostration.
When Faith looked into the little parlor she saw what she dreaded most,
her mother lying on the sofa suffering from a terrible headache.
"I must say absolutely nothing," whispered Faith to herself; "but what
if that fellow should follow me home! Oh, it would be terrible!
Terrible! I am sure it would kill her!"
She washed her face and hands and smoothed her hair, then went quietly
into the parlor and kissed her mother.
"Oh, Faith," cried the sick woman, sharply.
"How did you get along, dear? Were they kind to you in that dreadful
store, or will they kill my daughter, as they did my husband?"
"Hush, mother; don't say anything like that, there's a dear," said Faith
quickly. "Don't let your mind dwell so steadily on unpleasant things,
and just as soon as your head is better I'll tell you all about it.
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