And what was it all
worth to him now?
He put the letter in his pocket with the telegram and looked out. They
were turning into Bolton Street. How was little Effie, he wondered? The
child seemed all that was left him to care for. If anything happened to
her--bah, he would not think of it!
He was there now. "How is Miss Effie?" he asked of the servant who
opened the door. At that moment his attention was attracted by the dim
forms of two people, a man and a woman, who were standing not far from
the area gate, the man with his arm round the woman's waist. Suddenly
the woman appeared to catch sight of the cab and retired swiftly down
the area. It crossed his mind that her figure was very like that of
Anne, the French nurse.
"Miss Effie is doing nicely, sir, I'm told," answered the man.
Geoffrey breathed more freely. "Where is her ladyship?" he asked. "In
Effie's room?"
"No, sir," answered the man, "her ladyship has gone to a ball. She left
this note for you in case you should come in."
He took the note from the hall table and opened it.
"Dear Geoffrey," it ran, "Effie is so much better that I have made up my
mind to go to the duchess's ball after all.
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