"What did I tell you!" she exclaimed. "Who brought this, Bubbles?"
"Nobody--a messenger-boy."
"Barbara," said her father, "write that you are safe at home. I'll tell
Lichtenstein what has happened. He's our best advice. Where is Mr.
Lichtenstein, Bubbles?"
"In his room, sir, writing."
Dr. Ferris left hurriedly, and Bubbles, gnawed by unsatisfied curiosity,
stood first on one foot and then on the other while Barbara wrote to
Wilmot. Somehow it was a very difficult note to write, for she felt sure
that it would not be read by Wilmot's eyes alone, and she didn't wish by
a syllable further to incite the legless man against his prisoner. So at
last she merely wrote that she was with her father at Clovelly. What she
wanted to write was that her love for him had grown and grown until she
was sure of it.
After Bubbles had gone with the note she sat for a long time without
moving, silent and white.
When her father returned, bringing Lichtenstein, he, too, was white. "I
am going to town at once," he said. "God willing, I shall have only good
news for you."