"What's the trouble?" I asked him.
"Oh, I just wanted to say goodby to you," he said hurriedly. "I did not want to go without doing that. I've—I've had a pleasant time."
"But why are you going?"
"Oh, I want to be home ... you know, I get a little homesick." But he said it so stumblingly that I was sure he was not telling me all.
"Frank," I demanded, "tell me the truth. Has anything gone wrong? I had hoped you would stay until my aunt returned."
He laughed at that, and mystified me the more. "Have any of the servants offended you in any way?" I asked, searching my brain for some reason for his change of attitude.
"The servants? Oh, no, of course not!" He picked up his suitcase and started for the street. "Well, goodby," he said. He stopped as if he wanted to explain, then thought better—or worse—of it, and went on. I was a little nettled by this time, and let him go.
As I went up in the elevator, it seemed to me a mighty mystery. But no sooner had I let myself into the apartment than I was due for a bigger surprise.
For there, blocking the hallway, a figure of offended pride, stood Aunt Selina.
I went to her to kiss her, but she stepped back and glared into my face.