Gladys pinched Roger. It was precisely behind the blue-covered sofa that they were hiding.
"I wish they would be quick," said the elder lady. "Perhaps they did not hear the bell."
"Shall I go to the door and ring it again?" asked the one called Rosamond.
"I don't know; perhaps it would be better to tap at the glass door leading into the house. Madame Nestor sits in there, I fancy. She generally comes out at that door."
"I don't fancy she is there now," said the young lady. "You see we have come so early. It has generally been in the afternoon that we have come. Madame Nestor is probably busy about her 'household avocations' at this hour," she added, with a smile.
"I wonder what that means," whispered Gladys. "I suppose it means the dinner."
Just at that moment the door opened, and Madame Nestor appeared, rather in a flutter. She was so sorry to have kept the ladies waiting, and how unfortunate! Her son had just gone to their house with the patterns for the curtains. He would have sent yesterday to ask at what hour the ladies would be at home, but they had all been so busy—an unexpected arrival—and Madame Nestor would have gone on to give all the story of Léonie's sudden visit to beg a shelter for the two little waifs, had not the ladies, who knew of old the good dame's long stories, cut her short as politely as they could.
"We are very hurried," said the one whom the young lady called "auntie." "I think the best thing to be done is to get home as quickly as we can, and perhaps we shall still find your son there; if not, he will no doubt have left the patterns, so please tell him to try to come this evening or to-morrow morning before twelve, for we must have the curtains this week."
Of course—of course—Madame Nestor agreed to everything as amiably as possible, and the ladies turned to go.
"Are you much troubled with mice?" said the younger lady as they were leaving. "I have heard queer little noises two or three times over in that corner near the blue sofa while we were speaking."