- cuss the matter with an unseen presence in its farthest
shadows. The conference was brief but unsatisfactory, for a moment later the unseen presence slowly materialized into the august shape of a butler, who seemed at once to diminish the footman into a relative nothingness.
"Perhaps you'll let me know your business," said the butler, in a tone which implied that she could have no business, at any rate with Miss Babraham, at such an hour.
June, alas, could not explain the nature of her errand. These two men were so imposing, so unsympathetic, so harsh, so frightening that had life itself depended upon her answers, and in quite a special degree she now felt that it did, she was yet unequal to the task of making them effective.
"Miss Babraham cannot see you now," said the slow-voiced butler, with an air of terrible finality.
"But I must see her. I simply must," wildly persisted June.
"It's impossible to see her now," said the butler.
The words caused June to stagger back against the wall. In answer to her tragic eyes, the butler said reluctantly: "You had better call again some time to-morrow, and I'll send in your name."
"I—I must see her now," June gasped wildly.
The butler was adamant. "You can't possibly see her to-night."
"Why can't I?" said June, desperately.
"She is going to a ball."
The words were like a blow. A vista of the fog outside and of herself wandering with her precious burden all night long in it homeless, penniless, desolate,
