"Is he busy, or may I go in and speak to him?"
"He is not busy. He is expecting you."
Hester gathered up her rejected flowers and rose. She felt as if she had been back at Warpington a year—as if she had never been away.
She stopped a moment in the hall to look at her letters, and laid down her flowers beside them. Then she went on quickly to the study, and tapped at the door.
"Come in," said the well-known voice.
Mr. Gresley was found writing. Hester instantly perceived that it was a pose, and that he had taken up the pen when he heard her tap.
Her spirits sank a peg lower.
"He is going to lecture me about something," she said to herself, as he kissed her.
"Have you had tea? It is choir practice this evening, and we don't have supper till nine."
Hester had had tea before she started.