"Well!" said the exasperated Lucilla, and then the doorbell rang.
"Why," said Jane, "it's hardly half-past three! He must be simply longing for his tea."
"It's all right," said Lucilla. "Thank goodness we're perfectly tidy!"
"Too tidy," murmured Jane. "He'll know we can't always live like this. Nobody could."
And then Mrs. Doveton flung back the door. And:
"The gentleman you was expecting," she announced sympathetically.
Jane looked stony, but Lucilla turned with a kind and welcoming smile. But the smile was, as old novelists say, frozen on her lips, when she confronted, not the young man with the nice, kind face, but a tall, gaunt, grizzelled old man, with bushy eyebrows and uncompromising side-whiskers.
"Er . . ." said Lucilla.
"Quite so," said the old man; "allow me to introduce myself. I am the master of Cedar Court, which you yesterday did me the honour to explore."
"Er . . ." said Lucilla, fluttering hopelessly.
But Jane said, "How do you do?" and held out a warm, welcoming hand. "How very good of you to come," she went on. "I can't get up because I sprained my ankle on your dark stairs yesterday. That's the most comfortable chair. Do sit down and let us tell you all about everything."
"Humph," said the master of Cedar Court. But he sat down.
