Before I could think of slipping back to the library (in which I was supposed to be waiting), the active young footman was in the hall, answering the door.

It mattered little, as I thought.

In my aunt's state of health, visitors in general were not admitted.

To my horror and amazement, the performer of the soft little knock proved to be an exception to general rules.

Samuel's voice below me (after apparently answering some questions which I did not hear) said, unmistakably, "Upstairs, if you please, sir." The next moment I heard footsteps--a man's footsteps--approaching the drawing-room floor.