“Well, I never!”
Instantly nine pairs of eyes were focused in the same direction. There were nine simultaneous exclamations of one sort or another. Polly stifled a laugh. Nancy cried “Oh!” Edward Bacon was heard to say in a deep basso: “Cæsar’s ghost!”
There entered the room a female person of tremendous size and proportions. Only one woman in the world could be as huge as that. Nancy looked at her face closely and shrank back in her chair. It was Felicia Rivers.
She was dripping wet. Streams of water ran down her ample sides and she shook herself like a sea lion, scattering the moisture about her in every direction.
“You are the Master’s friends, young gentlemen, I suppose?” she observed.
“We hope so,” answered Edward Bacon, somewhat doubtfully.
“And where is the master?”
“Held up by the shower, I suppose. We came in and helped ourselves, you see. We were in the worst of it, and this young lady was so cold.”
If Felicia Rivers recalled Nancy, she made no sign of any recognition. Indeed, she only gave the young girl a passing glance.
“I am the new housekeeper,” she announced.