"Yes, I did," said the Doctor quickly, still seeming unconvinced of the wisdom of her attitude.
"Miss Van Gorder, I confess--I'm very anxious for you," he continued. "This letter is--ominous. Have you any enemies?"
"Don't insult me! Of course I have. Enemies are an indication of character."
The Doctor's smile held both masculine pity and equally masculine exasperation. He went on more gently.
"Why not accept my hospitality in the village to-night?" he proposed reasonably. "It's a little house but I'll make you comfortable. Or," he threw out his hands in the gesture of one who reasons with a willful child, "if you won't come to me, let me stay here!"
Miss Cornelia hesitated for an instant. The proposition seemed logical enough--more than that--sensible, safe. And yet, some indefinable feeling--hardly strong enough to be called a premonition--kept her from accepting it. Besides, she knew what the Doctor did not, that help was waiting across the hall in the library.
"Thank you, no, Doctor," she said briskly, before she had time to change her mind. "I'm not easily frightened. And tomorrow I intend to equip this entire house with burglar alarms on doors and windows!" she went on defiantly. The incident, as far as she was concerned, was closed. She moved on into the alcove. The Doctor stared at her, shaking his head.
She tried the terrace door. "There, I knew it!" she said triumphantly. "Doctor--you didn't fasten that bolt!"
The Doctor seemed a little taken aback. "Oh--I'm sorry--" he said.
"You only pushed it part of the way," she explained. She completed the task and stepped back into the living-room. "The only thing that worries me now is that broken French window," she said thoughtfully. "Anyone can reach a hand through it and open the latch." She came down toward the settee where Dale was sitting. "Please, Doctor!"
"Oh--what are you going to do?" said the Doctor, coming out of a brown study.
"I'm going to barricade that window!" said Miss Cornelia firmly, already struggling to lift one end of the settee. But now Dale came to her rescue.
"Oh, darling, you'll hurt yourself. Let me--" and between them, the Doctor and Dale moved the heavy settee along until it stood in front of the window in question.
The Doctor stood up when the dusty task was finished, wiping his hands.
"It would take a furniture mover to get in there now!" he said airily.
Miss Cornelia smiled.
"Well, Doctor--I'll say good night now--and thank you very much," she said, extending her hand to the Doctor, who bowed over it silently. "Don't keep this young lady up too late; she looks tired." She flashed a look at Dale who stood staring out at the night.