What met his astonished gaze was a large black velvet hat ascending. It was willowy with drooping feathers, and in the dimness of the narrow stair it eclipsed the motive power which was lifting it. In his amazement Philip stepped back and presently met a slender face whose dark eyes were lifted to his.
"We're taking you by storm, Mr. Sidney," said a low, slow voice. "I hope it's not inconvenient."
Edgar followed close behind. "I tried to send your man up ahead," he said stridently, "but he seemed to think this sort of thing was all right."
Philip stood back a pace further in actual bewilderment, and Kathleen Fabian extended her delicately gloved hand.
"We're the Fabians," she said, examining her host with quick appraisement, and her smile was alluring.
"Oh!" exclaimed Phil, recovering himself and taking the hand. "Very kind of you, I'm sure."
"If you think you're easy to find," said Edgar as they greeted, "you're much mistaken. Mother got it all wrong, as usual."
Philip took in at a glance the dapper form of his visitor. He had not been insensible of Edgar's neglect of him in the young man's own home; and had decided that Eastern and Western ideas of hospitality must differ with more than the width of a continent.
"Very good of you, I'm sure, to stick to it," he returned composedly. "Come into my suite and overlook its shortcomings if you can."