The minutes slipped away till a quarter of an hour was told. They scarcely spoke to each other. Each had a curious air of expectancy.
Then Ada announced:
“He is going away again. To the bachelor party, I suppose.”
They watched him get into his carriage, heard the wheels as it rolled away. Both drew a breath of relief.
“It almost seemed strange, his coming to-night,” Eva exclaimed.
There was a light tap on the outer door, and she added:
“Auntie is coming to tell us what he wanted. Come in.”
Mr. Somerville stalked in with a face as gray and hueless as the dead.
“Oh, papa, how strange you look!” the girl cried in alarm. “Are you ill?—or—has anything happened?”
He drew her into his arms with a protecting air, groaning hoarsely: