She paused because there was a sound of voices overhead. Footsteps came along the upper hall and began to descend the stairs. Presently Davenant could be heard saying:
"Then I shall tell Harrington that they may as well foreclose at one time as another."
"Just as well." Guion's reply came from the direction of his bedroom door. "I see nothing to be gained by waiting. The sooner it's over the sooner to sleep, what?"
"They're talking about the mortgage on the property," she explained, as Davenant continued to descend. "This house is to be sold—and everything in it—"
"Which is one more reason why we should be married without delay. I say," he added, in another tone, "let's have him in."
"Oh no! What for?"
Before she could object further, Ashley had slipped out into the hall.
"I say! Come along in."
His attitude as he stood with hands thrust into his jacket pockets and shoulders squared bespoke conscious superiority to the man whom he was addressing. Though Davenant was not in her line of vision she could divine his astonishment at this easy, English unceremoniousness, as well as his resentment to the tone of command. She heard him muttering an excuse which Ashley interrupted with his offhand "Oh, come in. Miss Guion would like to see you."
She felt it her duty to go forward and second this invitation. Davenant, who was standing at the foot of the staircase, murmured something about town and business.