Wicker?"
That night Donald sat up late, turning things over in his mind. Once
the trial was over he must go away, where he could not see Miss Lady
or hear of her. He must plunge into some business that would absorb
his time and attention. But before he went he must make an investment
and make it at once. In order to do so, he would follow Basil Sequin's
advice, and offer his bank stock for sale in the morning.
CHAPTER XXI
There was anxiety in the drab house in College Street. The second day
of Donald Morley's trial had come and no decision had been reached.
Every ring of the telephone, every opening of the front door brought a
hurrying of feet through the hall, and an eager demand to know if
there was any news.
"I'll never get my lessons!" exclaimed Hattie petulantly, collecting
her scattered belongings after one of these rushes to the door. "I
wish to Heaven one of my fingers was a lead pencil!"
"Why don't you wish your tongue was one, Hat, then you wouldn't have
to sharpen it," suggested Connie.
"I bet Miss Lady had my pencil," went on Hattie, ignoring Connie's
comment. "She's never owned a pair of scissors, or a pencil, or a
shoe-buttoner since she's been here.
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