“No,” said she at last, “I will not fear, for I am doing right, and I know he is too kind to refuse me.” She did not allow herself another moment for reflection, but gave the bell quite a vigorous pull. In a few moments a great red faced Irish girl came to the door.
“Please, ma’am,” said Hesper, dropping a very respectful curtsey—“Is Dr. Smiley in?”
“No;” said the girl, and she was just shutting the door, when a pleasant voice called out from the parlor—
“Stop, Ellen; he came in just now, and went up to the library.” The next moment, a very pretty young lady stepped into the entry.
“Come in,” she said, “and I will speak to father.”
Hesper timidly crossed the threshold, and stood in one corner. “I will wait here,” she said, in a very humble manner, “if you will be so kind as to tell the doctor that Hesper Greyson wishes to see him.”
“O please do come in,” said the young lady, as she took Hesper by the hand and led her into the parlor. “Here is a nice warm fire, and I know you must be cold.”
“Mother,” she continued, addressing an elderly lady who was seated by a work-table, sewing—“Here is the very Hesper Greyson of whom father was speaking—sister to little Johnny.”
There was another young lady—rather older than the first—seated at the piano, who started up directly when she heard this.
“Let me give her a seat, Alice,” she said, “while you speak to father.” She drew a velvet cushioned ottoman to the fire, and Hesper sat down, though she felt very much out of her element.