Which sentiment being shared by the master of the house the mistress called the midnight session off and they went upstairs.
CHAPTER XIV
It was a dismal rainy afternoon, and the work of the day having been finished early the girls were ensconced in their little sitting-room reveling in a well-earned rest. By the way of unusual dissipation a teakettle was hissing on the table, while the freshly filled sugar bowl and bits of lemon told of preparations for the cup that cheers. Stretched out at full length on the floor lay Hester in her favorite attitude. At her feet sprawled Peter Snooks, chewing frantically at a piece of rubber tire which was at once his solace and despair, defying as it did his most strenuous efforts to tear it to bits. Julie, who had donned a negligé and shaken the pins out of her curly hair, was buried in a book, yet with one ear alert lest her father in the adjoining room should stir and want something. Bridget, remarkable to relate, had taken an afternoon out.
Presently Julie dropped her book and curling herself into the depths of the chair was dozing off when Hester said abruptly, “There’s a stranger coming!”
Julie started up and gazed about as if expecting some one to loom up before her.
“There is,” reiterated Hester.
“Is what?” sleepily.
“A stranger coming.”
“How do you know?”
“My nose itches,” announced the younger Dale, rubbing the tip of that saucy feature.