For down the hall came Mr. King in velvet morning jacket and cap.
"Hoity-toity, I thought no one was to be admitted," he exclaimed, as he neared the door.
"Grandpapa," Polly endeavored to draw him off, but the young girl ran past her.
"Mr. King," she said quickly, "I am Charlotte Chatterton."
"The dickens you are!" exclaimed the old gentleman, looking her full in the face.
"Yes, sir; and my father is very ill." For a moment her voice trembled, but she quickly recovered herself. "It isn't money I want, Mr. King," and she threw her head back proudly, "but oh, will you come and see father?"
Mr. King looked at her again, then over at Polly. "Bring her in here," he said, pointing to the same little reception room that Charlotte had deserted, "I want you to stay, too, Polly," and the door closed upon them.
CHAPTER VI.
OF MANY THINGS.
"And father has asked her to go home when you and he go!" cried Jasper in irritation.