Page:Elizabeth Jordan--Tales of the city room.djvu/86

 the next moment the pedestrians on Eleventh Street were confronted by the spectacle of a young lady, perfectly dressed, running like a deer along that quiet thoroughfare through the gathering darkness. She did not stop until she reached Washington Square. There she dropped exhausted on a small bench and panted as she sat looking up at the cross blazing on the lofty tower of the church in front of her.

It was fate, and a happy one for Miss Imboden, that sent Ruth Herrick swinging rapidly across the Square on her way home from "The Searchlight" office. Her quick eye saw the lonely figure and read the depression in its relaxed lines. She looked sharply at the averted face, and recognized Miss Imboden, whom she knew slightly.

"Why, Miss Imboden!" she exclaimed, stopping suddenly before the drooping form. "How do you do? I'm so glad to see you."

The cheery voice and the expression of sympathy in Miss Herrick's gray eyes broke the barriers of the other woman's reserve. She sobbed almost hysterically as she caught