"With your key, Aunt Kezia. Could things have happened more fortunately?" The twinkle in his gay blue eye was irresistible. "You arrive at the crucial moment—a ministering angel—a fairy godmother—"
"Be quiet, sir! You are impertinent! And my latchkey," a dull pink spread slowly over her face, "is packed in my box, and my box is coming on this evening. I could not dream that I should need my key at half-past two o'clock, the time I arrived home!"
He winked at Nell.
"Do you always pack your key, Aunt Kezia?" in an innocent little voice.
"No! Once more, may I inquire how you intend to enter the house?"
"You see that wooden gate? I will climb it—Excelsior—or perish in the attempt! Once over that, I can enter by the kitchen or the passage door."
"So you did not even trouble to lock them?"
"Sure, then, how would we be getting in if we had?"
"It was me!" burst out Nell, and her voice trembled.
"I!" said Miss Kezia.