Miss Featherstone's landlady tapped at the door, and entered with a letter.
"Please, miss, he says he's sorry to trouble you, but is there an answer?"
Nelly hurriedly ran over the letter, and there was a wicked smile of triumph on her face.
"It's him," she said to her companion. "Would you like to see him? Shall I ask him to come up, since you are here?"
"By all means."
"Mrs. Goddridge, tell him I have a friend with me, and he may come up, if he likes."
Blushing, embarrassed, delighted, shamefaced, and yet radiant with joy, Mr. Frank Glyn was introduced to Annie Brunel. He was a good-looking slightly-built young fellow, with a sensitive cast of face, pleasant large blue eyes, and a certain tenderness about the lines of the mouth which boded ill for his future reminiscences of his acquaintance with Miss Nelly Featherstone. That young person should have been flirted with by a man of stronger mettle than Frank Glyn.
"I hope I am not disturbing you," he said, nervously, looking at the table.
"I hope you are in a better temper than when I last saw you," said she.
"We may let bygones be bygones now, Nelly. It wouldn't do to fight before Miss Brunel. She might have a strange impression of us."