“I am sure he will not,” said Mrs. Marsh, with decision. “He must have a good many friends in New York, and we cannot expect to see much of him. When he does come again, however, I sincerely hope you will try to make a better impression than you did yesterday.”
Gretel really did not mind being alone. She was not a timid child, and the life she had led with her father had made her unusually independent for her age. But when Mrs. Marsh had gone out this afternoon she did not as usual rush to the piano. Somehow she did not feel quite like playing to-day. Music reminded her of yesterday, and it was not a comfortable recollection. So she went to her room in search of one of her precious books, and had just settled herself comfortably with “Little Women” when she was startled by the sound of the door-bell, and in spite of Mrs. Marsh’s assurances, her heart began to beat fast again.
“Hello, Gretel! anybody at home?”
Yes, there he was, her tall handsome brother, looking down at her with his pleasant smile, and this time Gretel was not afraid to speak.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, regretfully, “but Mrs. Marsh and Ada have both gone out. Mrs. Marsh said she was sure you wouldn’t come to-day; she thought you would have so many other friends to see.”
She stood holding the door, expecting that the visitor would go at once, as people usually did when told the ladies were not at home, but to her surprise, he did not move.
“Aren’t you going to let me in?” he asked, smiling.
Gretel was covered with confusion.
“Yes, oh, yes, indeed,” she protested eagerly; “I’d love to have you, but I didn’t think you’d want to come in when you knew everybody was out.”
“How about you? Don’t you count yourself as anybody?” her brother inquired, with a laugh, as he stepped into the hall, and Gretel closed the door.