In the early afternoon, Rob had strolled into the house. He found no one in the parlor or library, for, as we have said, Bess was with Fred, and Mrs. Carter was lying down.
"Never mind," thought Rob. "They will be down pretty soon, so I'll just sit down and read till they come."
Accordingly, he took up a book and settled himself comfortably in a vast reclining-chair that stood near one of the library windows, half hidden behind a folding Japanese screen. But the book was rather a dull one, and Rob, if the truth must be told, was decidedly sleepy after his late hours of the night before; so before he had turned many pages, the book fell from his hand, his head dropped back into the depths of his chair, and Master Rob was sound asleep.
Half an hour later the bell rang. As Bridget could never be prevailed on to leave her work and go to the door, Bess gave Fred a bell to ring, in case he needed anything, and went down herself. There on the threshold stood Frank Muir, looking extremely glad to see her, although he seemed a little nervous and excited.
"Oh, Mr. Muir, I am very glad to see you," said Bessie cordially. "Come right through into the library, won't you? The parlor seems rather cool."
He followed her into the room, and they drew their chairs up to the fire, quite unconscious of the boy sleeping away so soundly just the other side of the screen. For some reason, the conversation did not run on very smoothly. Bess was listening with one ear to Mr. Muir, and straining the other to catch any sounds from above; and then, too, the young man's uneasiness seemed to have extended itself to her, in a strange and uncomfortable fashion. They said all the approved things and in the approved way, but still there did not seem to be quite the easy, pleasant good-fellowship that had always existed between them. At length Mr. Muir rose and stood leaning on the mantel, looking down at Bess.
"Miss Carter," he was beginning abruptly, and with a sort of effort, "I"—
At that moment a loud, sharp, determined bark was heard at the front door, just the bark to waken Fred, if he chanced to have fallen asleep. Bess sprang up.
"Mr. Muir, excuse me a moment, but Fuzz will disturb Fred, who is ill to-day. I must just let him in."
Frank Muir dropped down into his chair again, with an expression singularly like that of disgust on his pleasant face. Fuzz came dancing into the room, stopped at sight of a supposed stranger, and growled threateningly. Then, recognizing him as a friend, he leaped to his knee and began scratching at his shoulders and face, in token of friendly welcome.