Allenby was just shutting the hall-door as she turned the corner. A tall man in a big military greatcoat was shaking hands with her father.
“Here’s Captain Hardress, Norah.”
Norah found herself looking up into a face that at the first glance she thought one of the ugliest she had ever seen. Then the newcomer smiled, and suddenly the ugliness seemed to vanish.
“It’s too bad to take you by storm this way. But your brother wouldn’t hear of anything else.”
“Of course not,” said Mr. Linton. “My daughter was rather afraid you might be a brigadier. She loses her nerve at the idea of pouring tea for anything above a colonel.”
“Indeed, a colonel’s bad enough,” said Norah ruefully. “I’m accustomed to people with one or two stars: even three are rather alarming!” She shot a glance at his shoulder, laughing.
“I’m sure you’re not half as alarmed as I was at coming,” said Captain Hardress. “I’ve been so long in hospital that I’ve almost forgotten how to speak to any one except doctors and nurses.” His face, that lit up so completely when he smiled, relapsed into gloom.
“Well, you mustn’t stand here,” Norah said. “Please tell me if you’d like dinner in your room, or if you’d rather come down.” She had a sudden vision of Mrs. West’s shrill voice, and decided that she might be tiring to this man with the gaunt, sad face.
Hardress hesitated.
“I think you’d better stay upstairs,” said David Linton. “Just for to-night—till you feel rested. I’ll come and smoke a pipe with you after dinner, if I may.”