voice saying "I
won't" and "I shan't!" of the door opening to a momentary apparition of
Miss Tish dragging a small hand and half of a small black-ribboned arm
into the room, and her rapid disappearance again, apparently pulled back
by the little hand and arm; of another and longer pause, of a whispered
conference outside, and then the reappearance of Miss Tish majestically,
reinforced and supported by the grim presence of her partner, Miss
Prinkwell.

"This--er--unexpected visit," began Miss Tish--"not previously arranged
by letter"--

"Which is an invariable rule of our establishment," supplemented Miss
Prinkwell--

"And the fact that you are personally unknown to us," continued Miss
Tish--

"An ignorance shared by the child, who exhibits a distaste for an
interview," interpolated Miss Prinkwell, in a kind of antiphonal
response--

"For which we have had no time to prepare her," continued Miss Tish--

"Compels us most reluctantly"--But here she stopped short. Colonel
Starbottle, who had risen with a deep bow at their entrance and remained
standing, here walked quietly towards them. His usually high color
had faded except from his eyes, but his exalted manner was still more
pronounced, with a dreadful deliberation superadded.

"I believe--er--I had--the honah--to send up my kyard!" (In his supreme
moments the colonel's Southern accent was always in evidence.) "I
may--er--be mistaken--but--er--that is my impression." The colonel
paused, and placed his right hand statuesquely on his heart.

The two women trembled--Miss Tish fancied the very shirt frill of the
colonel was majestically erecting itself--as they stammered in one
voice,--

"Ye-e-es!"

"That kyard contained my full name--with a request to see my ward--Miss
Stannard," continued the colonel slowly. "I believe that is the fact."

"Certainly! certainly!" gasped the women feebly.

"Then may I--er--point out to you that I AM--er--WAITING?"

Although nothing could exceed the laborious simplicity and husky
sweetness of the colonel's utterance, it appeared to demoralize utterly
his two hearers--Miss Prinkwell seemed to fade into the pattern of the
wall paper, Miss Tish to droop submissively forward like a pink wax
candle in the rays of the burning sun.

"We will bring her instantly. A thousand pardons, sir," they uttered in
the same breath, backing towards the door.

But here the unexpected intervened. Unnoticed by the three during the
colloquy, a l