The frown vanished from his face.
"Bless you, Pete--and bless her, too!" he whispered back.

The next moment he had hurried after his wife.
The house that bore the number Pete had given proved to have a pretentious doorway, and a landlady who, in response to the summons of the neat maid, appeared with a most impressive rustle of black silk and jet bugles.
No, Mr.William Henshaw was not in his rooms.

In fact, he was very seldom there.

His business, she believed, called him to State Street through the day.

Outside of that, she had been told, he spent much time sitting on a bench in the Common.