He looked over the banisters. There was nobody in the
reception-hall. He arranged the muffler some more. Step by step, very
slowly, he descended as far as the landing where he had met Lana Corson
joyously the night before. Not expectantly, with visage downcast, he
looked behind him.
Lana was framed in the library door at the head of the stairs.
"I was trying to make up my mind to call to you. But you seemed to be in
so much of a hurry! I suppose you have a great deal to attend to this
morning."
"The principal rush seems to be over. Was it anything--Did you want to
speak to me?"
"Perhaps it isn't of much importance. It did seem to be, for a moment. But
it's something of a family matter. I think, after all, it will be
imprudent to mention it."
He waited for her to go on.
"Probably under the circumstances you'll not be especially interested,"
she ventured.
"The trouble is, I'm afraid I'll show too much interest and seem to be
prying."
"Will you please step up here where I'll not be obliged to shout at you?"
He obeyed so promptly that he fairly scrambled up the stairs.
"You said down there in the hall last evening that my father was angry and
that an angry man says a great deal that he doesn't mean.
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