He ran down to the street door and opened it before she could knock. The colour on her cheeks deepened at the sight of him, but now that she was near he saw her eyes were swollen with crying.
"Why do you go out without gloves, Mary Ann?" he inquired sternly.
"Remember you're a lady now."
She started and looked down at his boots, then up at his face.
"Oh yes, I found them, Mary Ann. A nice graceful way of returning me my presents, Mary Ann. You might at least have waited till Christmas, then I should have thought Santa Claus sent them."
"Please, sir, I thought it was the surest way for me to send them back."
"But what made you send them back at all?"
Mary Ann's lip quivered, her eyes were cast down. "Oh—Mr. Lancelot—you know," she faltered.
"But I don't know," he said sharply.
"Please let me go downstairs, Mr. Lancelot. Missus must have heard me come in."
"You shan't go downstairs till you've told me what's come over you. Come upstairs to my room."