Kerry (Romance Classic). Grace Livingston Hill

never be where that man is! You have done a dreadful thing! But Oh, I love you for you were the only little mother I had!

      You must not try to find me for I will never come to be with you and him. But if you ever are in trouble and need me, write to Father’s old lawyer friend in London. When I know what I am going to do I will let him know how to communicate with me.

      Your broken-hearted Kerry.

      Kerry slipped fearfully into her mother’s room and laid this note on her mother’s bureau. Then she went down and got a man to come up and get her trunk and other baggage. Holding in her lap the precious brief case containing her father’s book, she rode away in the cab, her trunk behind, her typewriter at her feet, and the big bag of rare books on the seat beside her.

      It was to a railway station she went first, where she checked her trunk and typewriter, and then taking another cab she drove far uptown to a little old book shop where her father had an old friend. Getting out with her two bags she paid the man, dismissed him, and went fearfully into the shop. Now, if her father’s friend were not in, what should she do next? And if he were not in and would not or could not buy her books, how was she to go any farther?

      She opened the door and stepped into the sweet dim twilight of the book-lined shop. In the shadows of the book stalls, she saw three figures, one of the old man whom she had often seen when she came here with her father, the other two younger men. They were standing at opposite sides of the table each with a book open in his hand. They looked up as she entered.

      The old man turned and came to meet her.

      “Well, well, and whom have we here?” he said graciously. “Bless my soul if it isn’t Shannon Kavanaugh’s little lassie. Well, I’m glad to see you my child, glad to see you! And it’s a sorry day to see you in black! I can’t tell you how my heart aches for you! I miss your father coming in more than you would think. He was my friend for long years.”

      Kerry gave him a wistful smile, and felt the tears coming to her eyes, but she held them bravely back.

      “Oh, thank you, Mr. Peddington,” she said, “I was afraid perhaps you would not remember me.”

      “Remember you! Remember you? How could I ever forget that bonnie face? How could I forget those eyes so like your great father’s. Oh, he was a great man! How proud I was to call him my friend! And his wonderful book that he was writing! He told me how you were helping him. Tell me, did he get it finished before he was taken away? Or will the world lose all that knowledge?”

      “Yes, it is done, Mr. Peddington,” answered Kerry eagerly. “He had it practically done several weeks before he died. We were going over it making corrections, finishing diagrams and rearranging some chapters, but it was practically just as he wanted it, and he had told me everything he wanted done. I have been copying the last things, and getting it ready for publication.”

      “And so it will soon come out, will it?” asked the old man eagerly.

      “I hope so, Mr. Peddington. I’m planning to go to America to Father’s publisher within a few days now.”

      “Oh, you are! How fortunate he was that he had some one to carry out his wishes and finish his work. Is there any way I can help you? I would be only too pleased. Your father was often good to me.”

      “Oh, Mr. Peddington! I thank you so much!” said Kerry gratefully. “Father always told me what a friend you were. And so I came to you to-day. I have here a few of his books that he loved, and he told me they were valuable. He told me if I ever needed funds to sell them, and to come to you to find out how to dispose of them. So now I’ve come. Would you mind looking at them, and telling me if I can get enough out of them to help me to get to America?”

      She opened up the bag, and the old man took out the books one by one, handling them as if they were delicate flowers, caressing the old bindings with his slender white fingers.

      “Oh, a first edition! Very rare. Yes, I know a man who would buy that for his collection! And this? Ah! That is worth a great deal! Yes, I remember the day he brought that down to show it to me. Some one gave that to him. It is a pity you have to part with it child. Perhaps I could advance you something on it and keep it for you until you can redeem it.”

      “Oh, no, Mr. Peddington, that would not be fair to you,” said Kerry wistfully. “It would probably be a long time before I could ever redeem it, and you might have opportunities to make a good sale. I do not want you to be hampered by such a promise.”

      So they went on from book to book. Some were of course less valuable than others, but the old man received them all with great eagerness and acted as if they were volumes for which he had been searching long.

      In the end Kerry’s big bag was empty and such a sum of money in her shabby little hand bag as she had not dreamed could be realized from those dear old books, valuable though she knew them to be.

      The two young men at the farther end of the book shop had gradually edged nearer and nearer to the other customer, watching her furtively. Long slant rays of sunlight touched and haloed her red-gold hair where it broke forth in soft little wavy strands about her face. Such a sweet young customer, with such a sweet low voice, that had nevertheless penetrated to their dim corners!

      Shannon Kavanaugh! Ah! A name to conjure with! They both looked up at that. They neglected the volumes in their hands and sidled around pretending to reach for other volumes nearer to the old proprietor of the shop. The taller of the two, the one with the deep gray eyes and firm pleasant lips, ventured to walk around in front of the old man and the girl, and go to the other side of the book table. As he passed them he turned and looked full in the dark eyes of the girl. But the other young man with the coal black eyes and the little pointed mustache over his full upper lip, edged nearer and nearer, until at last he stood almost back to back with old man Peddington, where he could overhear every word that was spoken.

      Shannon Kavanaugh! Shannon Kavanaugh’s new book of which the world had heard hints now and then in magazines, and scientific articles by great men. Ah!

      “How soon do you sail?” asked Peddington as Kerry was about to leave the shop.

      “Oh,” gasped Kerry, a shadow of anxiety crossing her face, “I wish I could go to-day. Now that you have helped me out so wonderfully I’m only anxious to get started. I’ll have to find out about a boat. I don’t know just how to go about it. Father always attended to traveling arrangements.”

      “Well, why not start at once?” said the old man kindly. “I’m sure there’s a boat going to-morrow. It would only be a question of whether you could get reservations. Suppose I look up the sailings in the morning paper.”

      At this the taller of the two young men, the one with the deep gray eyes, lifted his voice.

      “Pardon me, but I could not help overhearing. There is a boat leaving at noon to-morrow from Liverpool, sir,” he said courteously. “I’m sailing on it myself. I don’t know of course if there are any reservations left.”

      “Oh, thank you!” said Kerry gratefully. “Could you tell me where to go to find out about it?”

      Kerry left the book shop with full directions about ships and what to do if she could not get accommodations on that boat. She signaled a cab for she felt that every minute might be precious and it was important for her to get away from London to-day if possible. She had a timorous fear that Sam Morgan might turn London upside down to find her. If she lingered she might never be allowed to go. She was not yet quite of age. She was not sure how much power a step-father would have over her. And there was no one in the wide world to whom she could appeal who would have the right to help her. She longed to put the ocean between herself and the man she feared.

      Thinking her frightened thoughts she arrived at the office of the steamship company, only to be told there were no reservations left for a lady alone. As she turned away, a woman came hurrying up. She was elegantly clad and in haste. She wanted to give up her reservation. She had found friends going on another steamer four days later and wished to go with them.

      The