"Who's there?" demanded her uncle's voice, in a by no means amiable tone.
"It is I, Uncle Guy—Felicia," she responded timidly, "and Lion is here, too."
"Well—come in."
The tone of his voice had decidedly changed; it spoke a kind of pleased eagerness now. The little girl opened the door and stood on the threshold of the room, her hand on the dog's collar. Her uncle was seated on a chair by the window; he had evidently been looking out. His face brightened into a smile as he turned it towards his visitors.
"So it is you, Felicia," he said; "I did not expect you. I thought you would not come."
"I—I didn't mean to come. I—I thought very likely you might not want me, and if you do not, I will go away again."
"Nonsense! Come in."
"And Lion, too? Both of us?" she questioned dubiously.
"Yes."
After shutting the door behind her, Felicia crossed to the window, the dog still at her side.