"Now? What can he want to see me about at 11 A.M.?"
"If you really want to know, my dear, I think that the best way to satisfy your curiosity is to go down and ask him."
"How can I?" She spread wide her arms, the more clearly to bring to her husband's wandering attention the fact that she was not yet by any means dressed to receive callers. "Won't you go?" she pleaded.
"Why should I?" asked Newberry. "I'm not in the least curious——This coffee is worse every morning. You really must have Mrs. Dawson discharge Jane."
Ethel uttered a mighty sob and fled. She sent word to Stainton that she would be down in five minutes to greet him. After half an hour, she entered the reception room. Not ten minutes later, she rushed again upon her husband, this time in the smoking room, that she called his "study."
"What on earth do you suppose he wants?" she cried.
Preston, with a face like a martyred saint's, put down his newspaper. He did not, however, take his cigarette from his mouth to reply.
"What who wants?"
Ethel wrung her hands.
"That awful man!" she said.