smile, and felt the tears coming to her eyes, but she held them bravely back.
“Oh, thank you, Mr. Peddington,” she said, “I was afraid perhaps you would not remember me.”
“Remember you! Remember you? How could I ever forget that bonnie face? How could I forget those eyes so like your great father’s. Oh, he was a great man! How proud I was to call him my friend! And his wonderful book that he was writing! He told me how you were helping him. Tell me, did he get it finished before he was taken away? Or will the world lose all that knowledge?”
“Yes, it is done, Mr. Peddington,” answered Kerry eagerly. “He had it practically done several weeks before he died. We were going over it making corrections, finishing diagrams and rearranging some chapters, but it was practically just as he wanted it, and he had told me everything he wanted done. I have been copying the last things, and getting it ready for publication.”
“And so it will soon come out, will it?” asked the old man eagerly.
“I hope so, Mr. Peddington. I’m planning to go to America to Father’s publisher within a few days now.”
“Oh, you are! How fortunate he was that he had some one to carry out his wishes and finish his work. Is there any way I can help you? I would be only too pleased. Your father was often good to me.”
“Oh, Mr. Peddington! I thank you so much!” said Kerry gratefully. “Father always told me what a friend you were. And so I came to you to-day. I have here a few of his books that he loved, and he told me they were valuable. He told me if I ever needed funds to sell them, and to come to you to find out how to dispose of them. So now I’ve come. Would you mind looking at them, and telling me if I can get enough out of them to help me to get to America?”
She opened up the bag, and the old man took out the books one by one, handling them as if they were delicate flowers, caressing the old bindings with his slender white fingers.
“Oh, a first edition! Very rare. Yes, I know a man who would buy that for his collection! And this? Ah! That is worth a great deal! Yes, I remember the day he brought that down to show it to me. Some one gave that to him. It is a pity you have to part with it child. Perhaps I could advance you something on it and keep it for you until you can redeem it.”
“Oh, no, Mr. Peddington, that would not be fair to you,” said Kerry wistfully. “It would probably be a long time before I could ever redeem it, and you might have opportunities to make a good sale. I do not want you to be hampered by such a promise.”
So they went on from book to book. Some were of course less valuable than others, but the old man received them all with great eagerness and acted as if they were volumes for which he had been searching long.
In the end Kerry’s big bag was empty and such a sum of money in her shabby little hand bag as she had not dreamed could be realized from those dear old books, valuable though she knew them to be.
The two young men at the farther end of the book shop had gradually edged nearer and nearer to the other customer, watching her furtively. Long slant rays of sunlight touched and haloed her red-gold hair where it broke forth in soft little wavy strands about her face. Such a sweet young customer, with such a sweet low voice, that had nevertheless penetrated to their dim corners!
Shannon Kavanaugh! Ah! A name to conjure with! They both looked up at that. They neglected the volumes in their hands and sidled around pretending to reach for other volumes nearer to the old proprietor of the shop. The taller of the two, the one with the deep gray eyes and firm pleasant lips, ventured to walk around in front of the old man and the girl, and go to the other side of the book table. As he passed them he turned and looked full in the dark eyes of the girl. But the other young man with the coal black eyes and the little pointed mustache over his full upper lip, edged nearer and nearer, until at last he stood almost back to back with old man Peddington, where he could overhear every word that was spoken.
Shannon Kavanaugh! Shannon Kavanaugh’s new book of which the world had heard hints now and then in magazines, and scientific articles by great men. Ah!
“How soon do you sail?” asked Peddington as Kerry was about to leave the shop.
“Oh,” gasped Kerry, a shadow of anxiety crossing her face, “I wish I could go to-day. Now that you have helped me out so wonderfully I’m only anxious to get started. I’ll have to find out about a boat. I don’t know just how to go about it. Father always attended to traveling arrangements.”
“Well, why not start at once?” said the old man kindly. “I’m sure there’s a boat going to-morrow. It would only be a question of whether you could get reservations. Suppose I look up the sailings in the morning paper.”
At this the taller of the two young men, the one with the deep gray eyes, lifted his voice.
“Pardon me, but I could not help overhearing. There is a boat leaving at noon to-morrow from Liverpool, sir,” he said courteously. “I’m sailing on it myself. I don’t know of course if there are any reservations left.”
“Oh, thank you!” said Kerry gratefully. “Could you tell me where to go to find out about it?”
Kerry left the book shop with full directions about ships and what to do if she could not get accommodations on that boat. She signaled a cab for she felt that every minute might be precious and it was important for her to get away from London to-day if possible. She had a timorous fear that Sam Morgan might turn London upside down to find her. If she lingered she might never be allowed to go. She was not yet quite of age. She was not sure how much power a step-father would have over her. And there was no one in the wide world to whom she could appeal who would have the right to help her. She longed to put the ocean between herself and the man she feared.
Thinking her frightened thoughts she arrived at the office of the steamship company, only to be told there were no reservations left for a lady alone. As she turned away, a woman came hurrying up. She was elegantly clad and in haste. She wanted to give up her reservation. She had found friends going on another steamer four days later and wished to go with them.
The agent called to Kerry just as she was leaving and she went back, but when she heard the price of the lady’s reservation she gave a little gasp.
“I ought not to pay so much,” she said with a troubled look.
“Oh, very well,” said the agent coldly, and turned away. Troubled and feeling as if she was about to break down and cry Kerry opened the door and went outside. She tried to think what to do, but a great fear seemed hounding her on every side. If she spent so much money she might starve when she got on the other side. On the other hand—
She had walked a whole block away from the place and was trying to cross the street when traffic interfered. From the curb stone where she had been jostled by the crowd she caught a whiff of violets, heavy and lovely, penetrating the myriad smells of a London street. Unconsciously she turned toward the shining limousine from which the perfume came. To her horror she saw that it contained her mother and the man from whom she was fleeing!
For the instant she was too horrified to move, too stunned to even take her eyes from the little scene that was being enacted before her, right there in the open street where any one might gaze.
Her mother, her beautiful little mother, had drawn the expensive glove from her shapely white hand and was admiring the glitter of the rings on the third finger. And Kerry saw that another had been added to the great white stone that she had worn that morning, a circlet of platinum
