“Well, perhaps if we had expected him, if he had come in some other way, and we knew more about him—­”

“Bless you, child, what a formalist you have become.  You stand on a fine point of etiquette, as if it were the broad foundation of hospitality; while only last week you wanted a ragged tramp, who had every appearance of being a thief, to stay all night.  Your brother thinks it a special providence that his friend should have turned up so unexpectedly.”

“Oh, dear!” sighed Elsie.  “If that is what the doctrine of special providence means, I shall need a new confession of faith.”  Then, a sudden thought occurring to her, she vanished, while her mother smiled, saying: 

“What a queer child she is, to be sure!”

A moment later Elsie gave a sharp knock at the spare room door, and in a second was in the further end of the dark hall.  George put his head out.

“Come here,” she whispered.  “Are you sure it’s you?” she added, holding him off at arm’s-length.

His response was such a tempest of kisses and embraces that in her nervous state she was quite panic-stricken.

“George,” she gasped, “have mercy on me!”

“I only wished to show you how he felt, so you would have some sympathy for him.”

“If you don’t stop,” said the almost desperate girl, “I will shut myself up and not appear till he is gone.  I will any way, if you don’t make me a solemn promise.”

“Leave out the ‘solemn.’”

“No, I won’t.  Upon your word and honor, promise never to tell what has happened—­my mistake, I mean.”

“Oh, Elsie, it’s too good to keep,” laughed George.

“Now, George, if you tell,” sobbed Elsie, “you’ll spoil my holiday, your visit, and everything.”

“If you feel that way, you foolish child, of course I won’t tell.  Indeed, I suppose I should not, for Stanhope seems half frightened out of his wits also.”

“Serves him right, though I doubt whether he has many to lose,” said Elsie, spitefully.

“Well, I will do my best to keep in,” said George, soothingly, and stroking her curls.  “But you will let it all out; you see.  The idea of your keeping anything with your April face!”

Elsie acted upon the hint, and went to her room in order to remove all traces of agitation before the supper-bell should summon her to meet the dreaded stranger.

In the meantime, Mr. Alford and James, the second son, had come up from the village, where they had a thriving business.  They greeted George’s friend so cordially that it went some way toward putting the diffident youth at his ease; but he dreaded meeting Elsie again quite as much as she dreaded meeting him.

“Who is this Mr. Stanhope?” his parents asked, as they drew George aside for a little private talk after his long absence.