The two girls stand close together listening, Beatrice hidden in the shadow of the room.
"There are two voices!" cries Helen, in a disappointed tone; "he is not alone!"
"I suppose it is Mr. Pryme—mamma said he might come by this train," answers Beatrice, so quietly that no one could ever have guessed how her heart was beating.
"Helen, do let us run upstairs; I really cannot stay. Let me go, at all events!" she adds, with a sudden agony of entreaty as the guests were heard advancing towards the door of the inner hall. And as Helen made not the slightest sign of moving, Beatrice slipped past her and ran lightly and swiftly across the hall upstairs, and disappeared along the landing above just as Captain Kynaston and Mr. Herbert Pryme appeared upon the scene below.
No such scruples of modesty troubled Mrs. Romer. As the young men entered the inner hall preceded by the butler, who was taking them up to their rooms, and followed by two footmen who were bearing their portmanteaus, Helen stepped boldly forward out of the shelter of the tea-room, and held out her hand to Captain Kynaston.
"How do you do? How late your train is."
Maurice looked distinctly annoyed, but of course he shook hands with her.
"How are you, Mrs. Romer? I did not expect you to be here till to-morrow. Yes, we are late," consulting his watch; "only twenty minutes to dress in—I must look sharp."
Meanwhile the stranger, Mr. Pryme, was following the butler upstairs.
Helen lowered her voice.