He
had seen Miss Nugent sitting at the window as he passed it, but in the
circumstances the fact gave him no comfort. A third knock was followed
by a fourth, and then a distressed voice upstairs was heard calling
wildly upon the name of Bella.
At the fifth knock the house shook, and a red-faced maid with her
shoulders veiled in a large damp towel passed hastily down the staircase
and, slipping the catch, passed more hastily still upstairs again,
affording the indignant captain a glimpse of a short striped skirt as it
turned the landing.
"Is there any management at all in this house?" he inquired, as he
entered the room.
"Bella was dressing," said Miss Nugent, calmly, "and you gave orders
yesterday that nobody else was to open the door."
"Nobody else when she's available," qualified her father, eyeing her
sharply. "When I give orders I expect people to use their common sense.
Why isn't my tea ready? It's five o'clock."
"The clock's twenty minutes fast," said Kate. "Who's been meddling with
it?" demanded her father, verifying the fact by his watch.
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