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"Yes; he says he wants to see you. There are several other men with him. I think it's some one
who belongs to you, maybe."
Aileen realized on the instant, as did Cowperwood, what had in all likelihood happened. Butler
or Mrs. Cowperwood had trailed them-- in all probability her father. He wondered now what he
should do to protect her, not himself. He was in no way deeply concerned for himself, even
here. Where any woman was concerned he was too chivalrous to permit fear. It was not at all
improbable that Butler might want to kill him; but that did not disturb him. He really did not pay
any attention to that thought, and he was not armed.
"I'll dress and go down," he said, when he saw Aileen's pale face. "You stay here. And don't you
worry in any way for I'll get you out of this--now, don't worry. This is my affair. I got you in it and
I'll get you out of it." He went for his hat and coat and added, as he did so, "You go ahead and
dress; but let me go first."
Aileen, the moment the door closed, had begun to put on her clothes swiftly and nervously. Her
mind was working like a rapidly moving machine. She was wondering whether this really could
be her father. Perhaps it was not. Might there be some other Mrs. Montague--a real one?
Supposing it was her father--he had been so nice to her in not telling the family, in keeping her
secret thus far. He loved her--she knew that. It makes all the difference in the world in a child's
attitude on an occasion like this whether she has been loved and petted and spoiled, or the
reverse. Aileen had been loved and petted and spoiled. She could not think of her father doing
anything terrible physically to her or to any one else. But it was so hard to confront him--to look
into his eyes. When she had attained a proper memory of him, her fluttering wits told her what to
do.
"No, Frank," she whispered, excitedly; "if it's father, you'd better let me go. I know how to talk to
him. He won't say anything to me. You stay here. I'm not afraid--really, I'm not. If I want you, I'll
call you."
He had come over and taken her pretty chin in his hands, and was looking solemnly into her
eyes.
"You mustn't be afraid," he said. "I'll go down. If it's your father, you can go away with him. I
don't think he'll do anything either to you or to me. If it is he, write me something at the office. I'll
be there. If I can help you in any way, I will. We can fix up something. There's no use trying to
explain this. Say nothing at all."
He had on his coat and overcoat, and was standing with his hat in his hand. Aileen was nearly
dressed, struggling with the row of red current-colored buttons which fastened her dress in the
back. Cowperwood helped her. When she was ready--hat, gloves, and all-- he said:
"Now let me go first. I want to see."
"No; please, Frank," she begged, courageously. "Let me, I know it's father. Who else could it
be?" She wondered at the moment whether her father had brought her two brothers but would
not now believe it. He would not do that, she knew. "You can come if I call." She went on.
"Nothing's going to happen, though. I understand him. He won't do anything to me. If you go it
will only make him angry. Let me go. You stand in the door here. If I don't call, it's all right. Will
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