“I must go,” Norah said at last. “It’s been so nice: thank you ever so, Miss de Lisle.”
“It’s I who should thank you for staying,” said the big woman, rising. “Will you come again, some time?”
“Rather! if I may. Good-night.” She shut the door softly, and scurried along to her room—unconscious that another doorway was a couple of inches ajar, and that through the space Mrs. Atkins regarded her balefully.
Her father’s door was half-open, and the room was lit. Norah knocked.
“Come in,” said Mr. Linton. “You, you bad child! I thought you were in bed long ago.”
“I’m going now,” Norah said. “How did things go off, Daddy?”
“Quite well,” he said. “And my daughter made a good hostess. I think they all enjoyed themselves, Norah.”
“I think so,” said she. “They seemed happy enough. What about Captain Hardress, Dad?”
“He seemed comfortable,” Mr. Linton answered. “I found him on a couch, with a rug over him, reading. Allenby said he ate a fair dinner. He’s a nice fellow, Norah; I like him.”
“Was he badly wounded, Dad?”