“Why, no,” Doris returned innocently. “I thought it would be so much easier to have Jake bring the money.”
“And who is Jake?” the man questioned suspiciously.
“Oh, he works for my uncle.”
Ronald Trent seemed to relax at this, but it was evident to both Kitty and Doris that he was far from pleased at the way the matter had been handled.
“Well, all right,” he said grumpily, “but he’d better get here with the money tomorrow.”
“Why Ronald!” Azalea reproved gently. “I think it’s lovely of Doris to offer her money, and we mustn’t seem ungrateful.”
“Humph! It’s just a straight business deal. She knows she’ll get every cent of it back and with interest! Come on, if you’re going with me! I can’t wait around much longer!”
Azalea and Iris looked a trifle crushed at this abrupt statement, but they hurried away to get their coats and hats.
“We must leave you alone for awhile,” Azalea said apologetically to the girls. “We have a little business to attend to at the bank.”
“Come on, let’s get going!” Ronald urged. In the doorway he turned back toward Doris. “Don’t fail to let that fellow Jake know he’s to bring the money tomorrow. Understand?”
“I think so,” Doris returned dryly.
After the three had left the mansion, she and Kitty took stock of affairs. They were amazed that the Misses Gates had gone with Ronald, for it was only on very rare occasions that they ever set foot beyond the high hedge which surrounded Locked Gates.
“They’re under that man’s influence entirely,” Kitty declared.
Doris nodded soberly.
“And he’s getting more sure of himself every minute. Why, he spoke positively mean to them.”
“I wonder why they went to the bank?”
“Most likely to give him more money, though from what they said, I’m sure they’re practically destitute. Oh, it’s a shame!”
“What can we do, Doris?”
“I don’t know, but I have a feeling things are about to reach a climax. Let’s go for a walk and perhaps we can think of some way to show Ronald up in his true light.”
As the girls went to their room for their hats, they met Cora and Henry just starting up the stairway with broom, dustpan and mop. Since it was an unusual sight to see the two working together unless the Misses Gates were at hand to watch them, Kitty and Doris could not hide their surprise.
“Thought we’d do some housecleanin’,” Cora murmured, though the girls had asked for no explanation. “Thinkin’ of going out, were you?”
“Why, yes,” Doris replied. “We’re going for a walk.”
They found their hats and left the house. However, they had walked but a short distance when Doris stopped short.
“Kit, I have an idea!”
“Spill it!”
“We’ll never have a better opportunity than this to visit that little crippled girl on the attic floor. The twins are away and the Sullys are cleaning the wing on the other side of the house.”
“Do we dare?”
“Why not? After all, it’s no crime to visit a little girl. I feel dreadfully sorry for her, and then I’d like to ask her a few questions, too.”
“All right,” Kitty agreed.
Returning to the mansion, they quietly entered by the side door and stole softly up the stairway. They could hear Henry and Cora cleaning the rooms occupied by the Misses Gates. The doors were closed so they knew they had not been seen. Turning into their own wing they moved noiselessly down the hall until they came to the stairway leading to the third floor. Glancing back to make certain they were not being observed, they crept up the stairs and paused before the Sully suite.
Hesitating an instant, they pushed open the door and stepped into the sitting room. As they moved over toward the bedroom, they heard some one crying and knew that it was Etta.
Doris and Kitty quietly opened the door and entered. At first the girl on the bed did not hear them, but as they took a step toward her, she turned her head.
The girls were shocked at her appearance. She was not an ugly child, but her face was pinched and drawn. The hands which rested above the soiled comforter were thin and scrawny. Her hair did not look as though it had been combed that day.
The girls did not know just what to do or say, so stunned were they upon seeing this strange little creature gazing so pitifully and wonderingly at them. She was not frightened, but she was very much amazed. Why, these girls were among the few persons she had seen in all her years of seclusion.
Her great eyes looked out upon them—pleading, tragic, wounded eyes, like those of a timid, shy young animal. The girls held their breath!
“I never expected this,” awesomely whispered Kitty.
“How dreadful!” responded Doris.
A hush fell over the two young girls.
The old mansion itself furnished the background and what a melodramatic setting! The mighty Locked Gates, surrounded by the weird trees that sighed and moaned in the night as they swayed and tossed restlessly as though exhausted from their unceasing vigil!
The vivacious chums from Barry Manor were suddenly confronted with a side of life which they were unable to understand. Could this child be the neglected daughter of Cora and Henry Sully?
As Kitty and Doris advanced to the bedside, Etta stared at them in astonishment. Shut up in one room for nearly twenty years she had never seen any one her own age. Only Azalea and Iris had ever visited her and so she had come to think of a world peopled only by adults. Her parents, Henry and Cora Sully, had never taken the trouble to educate her and the only lessons she had ever received were taken from the Bible passages which the Misses Gates read aloud. Though in actual age she was older than either Doris or Kitty, mentally she remained a child. Now, as she viewed the girls and noticed their white dresses, it seemed to her that surely she must be gazing upon two angels.
Too moved for words, an expression of awe and rapture came over her face; she stretched out her thin hand toward Doris.
The two girls took a step nearer toward the bed. The coverlet of the quaint patch-work pattern was faded from many washings and the muslin was yellowed. A twisted, knotted handkerchief had dropped carelessly on a narrow strip of well-worn rag carpet. The whole picture was a far cry from anything that the two girls from boarding school had ever seen or expected to find at Locked Gates.
The poor, unfortunate girl was gowned in an old-fashioned, high-necked night-dress. A bit of yellowed crocheting finished the neck-line, no doubt the work of her grandmother, the dressmaker, who had been the seamstress for the Gates family.
“How do you do?” said Doris, smiling sweetly in an effort to be friendly at once.
“We are visiting here,” added Kitty, also making an effort to be cheerful and to put the cripple at ease with her most charming manner.
“It is a lovely sunny day, my dear. Let me raise the shade so that the light can come in and cheer up the room.” Doris raised the curtain which crinkled and creaked as the sunlight streamed into the bedroom in the attic.
“Now you can see the fleecy clouds,” chirped Doris, “and pretend you are floating and resting, honey, on one of those billowy boats up there in that deep, blue sea.”
Kitty laughed in a silvery, tinkling tone.
“I believe we could almost see Barry Manor today, the air is so clear and there is