Hildegarde and Rose looked at each other in terror.
"Oh, Hilda!" whispered Rose, catching her friend's hand, "it must be he! What shall we do?"
"Hush!" said Hildegarde. "Listen, and don't be a goose! Do? what should he do to us? He might recite the 'Curse of Kehama,' but it isn't likely he knows it."
Martha, who had been reconnoitring through a crack of the window-blind, now uttered an exclamation. "Well, of all! Mam, it's old Galusha Pennypacker, as sure as you stand there."
"Is it possible?" said Miss Wealthy, in a tone of great surprise. "Martha, you must be mistaken. Galusha Pennypacker coming here. Why should he come here?"
But for once Martha was not ready to answer her mistress, for she had gone to open the door.
The girls listened, with clasped hands and straining ears.
"Why, Mr. Pennypacker!" they heard Martha say. "This is never you?"
Then a shrill, cracked voice broke in, speaking very slowly, as if speech were an unaccustomed effort. "Is there—two gals—here?"
"Two gals?" repeated Martha, in amazement. "What two gals?"