"Momsey!" Peter, the pale, was calling from the drawing-room door.
"There's a gentleman——"
A man appeared behind the boy, and pushed past into the Close—a young man, unshaven and haggard, with bloodshot eyes.
"Is there something I can do for you?" asked Farvel, quickly. He hastened toward the visitor, who looked as if he had suddenly gone mad.
"Hull is my name," announced the man; "—Felix Hull."
"Oh, yes," said Sue, eagerly. She signed to Hattie to go, and the girl hastened away through the door under the wedding-bell.
"You have news?" questioned Farvel.
Hull crossed the lawn to the dial. He walked slowly, like an old man. And his shoulders were bent. His derby hat was off, and he clutched it in two shaking hands.
"Tell us," bade Sue. "It's—bad news?"
"Yes."
"Take your time," she added kindly.