Mrs. Clay looked up and gave the young man a gentle welcome. Before long he was quite at home, carrying on an animated conversation with mother and daughter. He was making Greta laugh with a reminiscence of his boyish days, when the door opened suddenly and the redoubtable "Becca" appeared.
She was a tall plain-featured woman, with a not unkindly face; but her manner was severity itself, when she saw the intruder, and timid Mrs. Clay looked perturbed and frightened at once.
"It is Mr. Tracy who lives opposite, Rebecca. He has taken such a kindly interest in Greta that I have told him we shall be glad to see him at any time."
Rebecca folded her arms and looked defiantly at the audacious young man.
"My mistress is not well enough to receive visitors. I fear this interview will be too exciting for her."
Rufus rose at once.
"I am very sorry if I have fatigued you, Mrs. Clay. I trust your nurse will forgive me. But now you know me and my antecedents, you will not prohibit your little girl from speaking to me when we pass each other on the road?"
"NOW, BECCA, DON'T BE CROSS."
"Certainly not," murmured Mrs. Clay, looking appealingly at her maid.