Mrs. Braddock has got her father down South some-'eres,
but the servants are expectin' 'em back this week."
"Then we may be in time. We must not lose a minute, Dick. If Tom
Braddock carries out his threat, we'll be to blame--you and I.
Christine,--where is she? What is she like? What do they say of her?"
"Ruby's been on the road, so she don't mention having seen her. And,
say, Davy, don't be sore at me for what I'm going to say now. It's
this way: Ernie made me promise never to tell you anything about her--
how she looks--how she acts, where she is, or anything. I've only told
you where her mother is, mind you. You'll have to guess about
Christie. You see, Davy, that boy's sure jealous of you yet. I--I--
guess you understand."
David nodded his head without speaking. He understood. There was
nothing for him to say. "I'll find her myself," he said, beginning to
pace the floor in his excitement. "She must be beautiful. She must be
all that her mother promised. But, Dick!"
He stopped short, struck by a sudden thought. "Why hasn't Mrs.
Braddock written to me? She promised. The five years have passed.
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