She was, however, prepared for anything, and it was with a most thankful heart that she heard the exclamations of delight that were unanimous when she was seen at the door of the drawing-room in company with Mr. Pryor.
Doffing the ragged cap that covered her head, she smilingly received the welcome of Mrs. Pryor, followed by that of the young ladies, and grasped the hand of Miss Pyne with suspicious warmth as it was extended last.
"I don't know what we should do with you for giving us the fright that you have!" cried Mrs. Pryor, warmly. "I honestly think that Mr. Pryor has not slept a night since you left us so unceremoniously."
Leonie colored vividly, and even Mr. Pryor looked a trifle sheepish.
"Before you make any more such remarks as that, my dear," he exclaimed, laughingly, "you had better let me tell you the romance that clings to my private secretary! He is not a man at all, but a young woman who happens to be the first cousin of our little friend here, Miss Edith Pyne!"
If he intended to create a sensation, as of course he did, his object was achieved to its fullest extent.
There was not a word spoken in the room for many moments, Mrs. Pryor being the first to break the silence.
"But I don't understand it at all!" she cried. "Is not this Neil Lowell?"
Leonie stepped forward, her brow colored crimson.
"I don't think that I should have had the courage to face you after my deception, dear Mrs. Pryor," she said, timidly, "but for the cordiality of your husband. If you will allow me, when I have more time than now, I will explain to you the reason for my assuming male attire and passing myself off upon your kindness in a false light. I hope you will forgive me."