Miss Drewitt said "Oh!" and, drawing the little table up to her easy-chair, put down her book and poured herself out a cup of tea. She had just arranged it to her taste-two lumps of sugar and a liberal allowance of cream—when a faint rap sounded on the front door.
"Come in!" she said, taking her feet from the fender and facing about.
The door opened and revealed to her indignant gaze the figure of Mr. Tredgold. His ears and nose were of a brilliant red and his eyes were watering with the cold. She eyed him inquiringly.
"Good afternoon," he said, bowing.
Miss Drewitt returned the greeting.
"Isn't Captain Bowers in?" said Mr. Tredgold, with a shade of disappointment in his voice as he glanced around.
"No," said the girl.
Mr. Tredgold hesitated. "I was going to ask him to give me a cup of tea," he said, with a shiver. "I'm half frozen, and I'm afraid that I have a taken a chill."
