"How?"
"In the depot-sleigh, of course——"
"With you?"
"Certainly. He wanted to come. He would come! I couldn't turn him out, could I—after he climbed in?"
Host and hostess glared at their flushed and defiant relative, who tried to look saucy, but only looked scared. "He doesn't know he's made a mistake," she faltered; "and there's no need to tell him yet—is there?... I put my name down on his card; he'll take me in.... Jim, don't, for Heaven's sake, say anything if he calls Betty Mrs. Austin. Oh, Jim, be decent, please! I was a fool to do it; I don't know what possessed me! Wait until to-morrow before you say anything! Besides, he may be furious! Please wait until I'm out of the house. He'll breakfast late, I hope; and I promise you I'll be up early and off by the seven o'clock train——"
"In Heaven's name, who is he?" broke in the amiable man so fiercely that Cecil jumped.
"He's only Lily Seabury's brother," she said, meekly, "and he thinks he's at the Austins'—and he might as well be, because he knows half the people here, and I've simply got to keep him out of their way so that nobody can tell him where he is. Oh, Betty—I've spoiled my own Christmas fun, and his, too! Is there any way to get him to the Austins' now?'
"The Jack Austins' of Beverly!" exclaimed her sister, incredulously. "Of course not!"
"And you let him think he was on his way there?" demanded her brother-in-law. "Well—you—are—the—limit!"
"So is he," murmured the abashed maid, slinking back to give place to a new and last arrival. Then she turned her guilty face in a sort of panic of premonition. She was a true prophetess; Seabury had seen his chance and was coming. And that's what comes of mocking the Mystic Three and cutting capers before High Heaven.