"Yes, Margery," said Ellen, sitting up in bed; "come in. What is it?"
"I came to ask Miss Ellen if she could do me a great favour? There's a strange gentleman come, and nobody has seen him yet, and it don't seem right. He has been here this some time."
"Have you told Mr. John?"
"No, Miss Ellen; he's in the library with my master; and somehow I durstn't go to the door; mayhap they wouldn't be best pleased. Would Miss Ellen mind telling Mr. John of the gentleman's being here?"
Ellen would mind it very much, there was no doubt of that; Margery could hardly have asked her to put a greater force upon herself; she did not say so.
"You are sure he is there, Margery?"
"I am quite sure, Miss Ellen. I am very sorry to disturb you; but if you wouldn't mind I am ashamed to have the gentleman left to himself so long."
"I'll do it, Margery."
She got up, slipped on her shoes, and mechanically smoothing her hair, set off to the library. On the way, she almost repented her willingness to oblige Margery; the errand was marvellously disagreeable to her. She had never gone to that room except with Alice never entered it uninvited. She could hardly make up her mind to knock at the door. But she had promised; it must be done.
The first fearful tap was too light to arouse any mortal ears. At the second, though not much better, she heard some one move, and John opened the door. Without waiting to hear her speak, he immediately drew her in, very unwillingly on her part, and led her silently up to his father. The old gentleman was sitting in his great study-chair, with a book open at his side. He turned from it as she came up, took her hand in his, and held it for a few moments without speaking. Ellen dared not raise her eyes.