Whitney eyed her keenly. "It has," he admitted tersely, "and I have taken
precautions." He stared at the clock and frowned impatiently. "Nearly
eight--the meeting will commence soon; let's get out of here."

"Wait, Dad," Kathleen laid a restraining hand on his shoulder. "I cannot
bear to think of you alone in the attic--so far away from--"

"Sisters in Unity--the very best of reasons for going to the attic--"

"Let me come with you," eagerly. "I'll bring my own work and not say a
word to you. I'm nervous, Daddy, I--I don't want to be by myself
tonight--and there's something I want to--to--" her voice broke.

Whitney glanced at Kathleen in surprise. What had come over her?

"Oh, come along," he agreed roughly. "Only remember, I won't be tormented
with small talk."

Kathleen's eyes brightened with relief as she accompanied him into the
hall. As they appeared the elevator door opened and Mrs. Whitney stepped
out into the hall.

"Why, I thought you were lying down, Kathleen; you said that you were
too tired to come in later to our club meeting and hear Senator Foster's
address on 'Peace,'" she exclaimed, and not waiting for an answer, turned
to Whitney. "Can you spare me a moment, Winslow? I wish your advice," and
with a quick tilt of her head she indicated the small reception room on
the left of the front door. "Come in here."