For Cragg's voice sounded outside the room, calling:
"Dora! My dear! Where are you?"
Mrs. Cragg dared not stir, even to restore the letters.
"My dear!" called Cragg again; and then—"Pattie! Pat—tie, where are you?"
He rapped at Pattie's door twice, tried to open it, and rapped a third time. Another step then became audible outside, and Mrs. Cragg turned sick with fright. Could it be Pattie already? Somehow Mrs. Cragg's "rights" did not look so clear at that moment.
"Ann, where's Mrs. Cragg?"
Then it was only the girl, not Pattie. A revulsion of relief swept over Mrs. Cragg.
"I don't know, sir. I think she's gone out."
"And Miss Dale?"
"Miss Pattie's out with Dot."