She stopped. The doorbell was ringing again—thrilling, insistent. Her niece started at the sound.
“Oh, don’t let anybody in!” she besought Miss Cornelia as Billy came in from the hall with his usual air of walking on velvet.
“Key, front door please—bell ring,” he explained tersely, taking the key from the table.
Miss Cornelia issued instructions.
“See that the chain is on the door, Billy. Don’t open it all the way. And get the visitor’s name before you let him in.”
She lowered her voice.
“If he says he is Mr. Anderson, let him in and take him to the library.”
Billy nodded and disappeared. Dale turned to her aunt, the color out of her cheeks.
“Anderson? Who is Mr.—”
Miss Cornelia did not answer. She thought for a moment. Then she put her hand on Dale’s shoulder in a gesture of protective affection.