Barclay, who was going away in a day or two, was to have taken her out to dinner, but she rang him up at his office and asked him to dine at "Happy House" instead, he being, as she told herself with decision, one of the family. She gave the number and after the usual delay a voice from the office answered her.
"Hallo, yes, you wish to speak to Sir John. Who is it, please?"
Grisel started, for it was her father's voice speaking to her.
"It is Miss——" she began nervously, and then making a face at herself, she went on, "It is Grisel, father. Is John there?"
Ferdie Walbridge's soft voice had an unmistakable thrill in it as he spoke again.
"Oh, it is you, dear! How are you, Grisel, and when is mother—I mean your mother—coming home?"
"They are coming to-night; Paul had a wire this morning from Mr. Wick."
There was a little pause and she could almost see her father's beautiful, self-indulgent face sharpen for a moment with surprise. He had a way at such moments of catching his underlip sharply back with his white teeth, and inflating his nostrils. This she knew he was doing now.
"To-night! Dear me, I hope they will have had a good crossing." Then he added pitifully, "Dear me, Grisel, is it not—strange—that I should not be there when they come?"