Footsteps crossed the hall, and died away into the dining-room.
"I wonder why on earth father does n't come in here. He must have heard us talking," said Nellie, like a tyrant crossed in some trifle.
A bell rang, and the servant came into the drawing-room and remarked: "If you please, mum," at Mrs. Cotterill, and Mrs. Cotterill disappeared, closing the door after her.
"What are they up to, between them?" Nellie demanded, and she too departed, with wrinkled brow, leaving Denry and Ruth together. It could be perceived on Nellie's brow that her father was going "to catch it."
"I have n't seen Mr. Cotterill yet," said Mrs. Capron-Smith.
"When did you come?" Denry asked.
"Only this afternoon."
She continued to talk.
As he looked at her, listening and responding intelligently now and then, he saw that Mrs. Capron-Smith was in truth the woman that Ruth had so cleverly imitated ten years before. The imitation had deceived him then; he had accepted it for genuine. It would not have deceived him now—he knew that. Oh, yes! This was the real article that could hold its own anywhere, Switzerland! And not simply Switzerland, but a refinement on Switzerland! Switzerland in winter! He divined that in her secret opinion Switzerland in summer was not worth doing—in the way of correctness. But in winter——
II