II
Unknown to the old lady, who would have been deeply shocked, Frankie and Minnie were in the parlour the next Sunday afternoon sewing, putting the final touches to a dress which Frankie was to wear in the office next day. When, suddenly, as she happened to look up, Minnie saw Mr. Petersen riding up the drive, on his splendid horse, and wearing his breeches and leggins and a quite new coat.
“Frankie!” she cried, in horror. “He’s coming in! Hide the sewing, quick!”
“He wouldn’t care,” Frankie objected, but nevertheless she obeyed, and every trace of their activity had vanished by the time Minnie admitted him.
“Might I see Mrs. Defoe?” he asked.
Minnie explained that she wasn’t able to come downstairs.
“So I’ve heard. But it’s a business matter. Perhaps she’d let me go up.”
She did; they watched him mounting the stairs, which creaked and shook under his heavy tread.
“What can he want?” asked Frances, nervously. “Oh, Minnie, I hope and pray it’s nothing about my not going on!”
“I don’t see what else it can be,” said Minnie, consolingly.