Chapter 8 A VISITOR

Supper at the mansion was always a rather stiff and formal affair, but on this evening the tension was somewhat relaxed. The Misses Gates chatted pleasantly with the girls, making them feel entirely at their ease.

The table had been laid with an elaborately embroidered tablecloth, of good quality but slightly yellowed with age. The dishes, the cut glass, and the silver were of the best. Two tall candles in pewter holders lighted the room. Cora Sully, fairly presentable in white cap and apron, brought the food in from the kitchen, but she served it in an indifferent fashion.

"Cora really is an excellent cook," Iris said half apologetically, when the woman had returned to the kitchen.

"Yes, indeed," Doris agreed quickly.

She had no fault to find with the supper, for the creamed chicken was delicious, the biscuits light, the salad crisp and fresh. It was only that she had taken a dislike to Cora and wondered why the Misses Gates kept such a slouchy, sullen woman.

"Mrs. Sully has been with us for some time," Iris continued. "She was the daughter of our former dressmaker, but she married a man that was no good. Undoubtedly he means well but he is shiftless, and finds it hard to obtain work. We took them both in."

"I see," Doris murmured.

She scarcely knew what to reply, and Kitty was leaving the burden of the conversation to her.

Mrs. Sully cleared away the dishes and appeared with the dessert, a steaming rich pudding which she placed before Azalea, who served it upon individual plates.

"Iris and I seldom indulge ourselves when we are here alone," Azalea remarked, "but we remember how young girls like sweets."

"I'm afraid you have gone to a great deal of trouble on our account," Doris said.

"Not at all," Azalea assured her. "It is a pleasure to have you here. We have so few visitors."

It seemed to Doris, who chanced to be watching Mrs. Sully, that an irritated expression passed over her face.

"She doesn't like it because we are here," Doris thought. "Probably thinks we'll make her more work!"

She picked up her dessert spoon, but before she could start eating her pudding, there came an unexpected interruption. A loud barking and growling grated upon the ears of the diners.

Doris and Kitty exchanged guilty glances. It was Wags!

"Gracious!" Iris murmured. "What can be the matter?"

Embarrassed, Kitty looked down at her plate.

"I'm so sorry," Doris apologized, "but I'm afraid it must be Wags."

"Wags?" Azalea asked, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

Doris nodded unhappily.

"He's the cutest little brown dog you ever saw-I know you'll just love him! Kitty and I picked him up on the road this afternoon and brought him along. We didn't want to leave him out in the storm, so we tied him up under the porch. I don't know what set him off like that."

Before either of the women could reply, Wags again let out a series of savage yelps and Doris heard the sound of a man's voice. Hastily, she pushed back her chair.

"I'll see what is the matter," she said, excusing herself.

Hurrying to the door, she opened it and stared straight into the face of the man who had made such a disturbance at the aviation meet! Wags, still securely tied under the porch, had taken exception to the appearance of the stranger and continued to bark excitedly.

"Be quiet, Wags!" Doris commanded.

"So that's your mutt, eh?" the stranger asked unpleasantly. "Vicious dogs shouldn't be at large!"

Doris stifled a sharp retort. Now that she saw the man at close range she was more unfavorably impressed than before. He was dressed in a new suit of loud pattern, and carried a cane. His face was hard and cold and his eyes had an unpleasant way of boring into one.

Before Doris could recover from her surprise, the Misses Gates came rushing into the hall.

"I thought I recognized your voice," Iris murmured, self-consciously.

"We were wondering if you would come tonight," Azalea added, a tell-tale blush creeping over her pale cheeks.

The stranger bestowed upon each a smile which to Doris seemed to fairly drip sentiment.

"Did you think I could stay away from two such charming young ladies?" he asked in a strangely softened voice.

Kitty, who had followed the Misses Gates into the hall, looked at her chum in disgust. Azalea and Iris saw nothing amiss. One of them took his hat and stick, the other his dripping coat.

Miss Azalea gazed admiringly at the cane which he bestowed upon her with all the grace of a sleight-of-hand performer.

"How's that?" he asked in self-satisfied tones as he twirled the stick jauntily before handing it to the enraptured hostess.

"Oh, aren't you clever, Ronald?"

"Well," he shrugged his shoulders as if to appear very modest, "they do say I'm a good entertainer."

Iris shook the raindrops from his topcoat solicitously and hung it up to dry on the antique coat rack in the corner.

"You know, I brought that cane over with me from Monte Carlo. That was my lucky day. My side of the argument was right, as usual, so the cane fell to my lot. I told the chap at the Casino how the play of a friend of mine would come out, and of course it came out as I said it would. You understand, ladies, that it was just a friendly little bet, nothing to disturb one's conscience," hoping that these last words of his would vindicate any doubts in their minds as to his moral standing. "A friendly little wager," he concluded, as with a wave of his hand he dismissed the subject entirely.

For a minute or two they were so excited and flustered that they entirely forgot the presence of the two girls. Recovering herself, Azalea turned to introduce them.

"Doris," she said, beaming happily, "I am sure this will be a pleasant surprise for you. May I present Ronald Trent, the son of your long-lost uncle?"

"Pleased to meet 'chu,'" the stranger mumbled.

Doris managed a perfunctory reply, but she really was too stunned to consider what she was saying. She could not believe that she had heard correctly, and after Kitty had acknowledged the introduction, she turned to Azalea.

"Did I understand you to say Mr. Trent is a relative of mine?"

"Sure, your cousin," the man broke in, before Azalea could answer. "Don't worry, kid. You and me will hit it off together."

Doris could not trust herself to reply. She glanced toward Kitty and saw the puzzled look in her eyes. What must her chum think!

"That man my cousin!" she thought dismally. "Oh, dear, I wish I hadn't found it out."

"Well, we had a heavy shower, girlies," boomed the new arrival as he adjusted his glaring tie carefully, "but I found a chummy roadhouse with a big welcome during the heaviest thunder. I certainly enjoy good company." He smacked his lips thoughtfully.

Kitty carefully kept her eyes turned away from her embarrassed chum. This was an unexpected turn to events. She was more surprised and worried at meeting this flashy stranger than she cared to have the group know. Reared in a refined and cultured environment, she feared her family might call her away at once, if they should become aware of the fact that such a man as this one were to spend any time in the company of the girls. She pictured the faculty at Barry Manor as being highly shocked and amazed should anybody tell them that these two pupils were spending their vacation in a place where they were obliged to associate with a person of the type of Ronald Trent. Would she have to desert her friend and leave for home on account of the sudden appearance of this relative of Doris?

Kitty pondered this matter seriously in her mind.

Doris was equally worried in her own way.