But in spite of her brave attempts at making the best of it, it could not be denied that this black house was not what they had pictured in their dreams.  Frank strode angrily up the path and pulled at the bell.  There was no answer, so he knocked violently.  Then he knocked with one hand while he rang with the other, but no sound save that of the clanging bell came from the gloomy house.  As they stood forlornly in front of their own hall-door, a soft rain began to rustle amidst the bushes.  At this climax of their troubles Maude burst into such a quiet, hearty, irresistible fit of laughter, that the angry Frank was forced to laugh also.

’My word, it will be no laughing matter for Mrs. Watson if she cannot give a good reason for it,’ said he.

‘Perhaps the poor woman is ill.’

’But there should be two other people, the cook and the housemaid.  It is just as well that we did not bring up our trunks, or we should have had to dump them down in the front garden.  You wait here, dear, under the shelter of the porch, and I will walk round and see if I can burgle it.’

He tried the back, but it was as dark as the front, and the kitchen-door was locked.  Then he prowled unhappily in the rain from window to window.  They were all fastened.  He came back to the kitchen-door, poked his stick through the glass which formed the upper panel, and then putting his hand through the hole, he turned the key, and so stumbled into the obscurity of his own hall.  He passed through it, unlocked the front door, and received Maude into his open arms.

’Welcome to your home, my own darling girl.  May you never have one sad hour under this roof!  What a dismal home-coming!  What can I do to make amends?  But good comes out of evil, you see, for in no other possible way could I have been inside to welcome you when you entered.’

They stayed in the hall in the dark some time, these wet and foolish young people.  Then Frank struck a match, and tried to light the hall-lamp.  There was no oil in it.  He muttered something vigorous, and carried his burning vesta into the dining-room.  Two candles were standing on the sideboard.  He lit them both, and things began to look a little more cheerful.  They took a candle each and began to explore their own deserted house.

The dining-room was excellent—­small, but very snug.  The Tantalus spirit-stand—­stood upon the walnut sideboard, and the bronzes from the cricket-club looked splendid upon each side of the mantelpiece.  Beside the clock in the centre lay an open telegram.  Frank seized it eagerly.

‘There now!’ he cried.  ’Listen to this.  “Expect us on Thursday evening about ten.”  It was Tuesday evening, I said.  That’s the telegraphic clerk.  We’ve come two days before our time.’

It was good to have any sort of explanation, although it left a great deal unexplained.  They passed through the hall with its shining linoleum, and into the drawing-room.  It was not a very good room, too square for elegance, but they were in no humour for criticism, and it was charming to see all the old knick-knacks, and the photographs of friends in their frames.  A big wrought-iron and brass-work standing lamp towered up near the fireplace, but again there was no oil.