The portière before the hall door was pushed aside and the man rose. He was prepared for a gaunt, forbidding, elderly spinster. He saw a girl in a dark blue frock that clung to the curves of the slender figure as though it loved them. He saw a waving mass of sunny brown hair that rippled into high lights even in the darkened room and framed a piquant face whose woeful brown eyes were shadow-circled.
"Merry Christmas!" he said abruptly.
"Merry Christmas!" Belinda replied before she realised the absurdity of it.
"You don't look it," commented John Ryder frankly.
Belinda crossed the room, threw up the shades, and turned to look at the amazing visitor, who stood the scrutiny with imperturbable calm.
"I am Miss Carewe. You wish to see me?"
The tone was frigid, but its temperature had no apparent effect.
"Yes. I'm John Ryder," the man announced tranquilly; then, seeing that she didn't look enlightened, he added, "I'm Miss Ryder's brother, you know."
Belinda thawed.
"Why, I didn't know——" she began, then stopped awkwardly.