There was no answer, so he rang again. After a while he heard a footstep that seemed to come up from below. Still the door was not opened, and he rang a third time.
“Who's there?” said a voice within.
“It is I—open the door,” he answered.
“Who are you?” said the voice, and he replied impatiently:
“Come, come, Liza, open, and see.”
Then the catch lock was shot back. At the next moment he was in the hall, shutting the door behind him, and Liza was looking up into his face with eyes of mingled fear and relief.
“Lor', sir, whyever didn't you say it was you?”
“Where's your mistress?”
“Gone to the office, and won't be back till morning. And Miss Gloria isn't home from the races yet.”
“I must see her to-night—I'll wait upstairs.”