At the top of the front stairs she paused for a moment, drawing a deep breath; and then, before her father's puzzled eyes, a transformation came upon her.
Her shoulders, like her eyelids, had been drooping, but now she threw her head back: the shoulders straightened, and the lashes lifted over sparkling eyes; vivacity came to her whole body in a flash; and she tripped down the steps, with her pretty hands rising in time to the lilting little tune she had begun to hum.
At the foot of the stairs, one of those pretty hands extended itself at full arm's length toward Russell, and continued to be extended until it reached his own hand as he came to meet her.

"How terrible of me!" she exclaimed.

"To be so late coming down! And papa, too--I think you know each other." Her father was advancing toward the young man, expecting to shake hands with him, but Alice stood between them, and Russell, a little flushed, bowed to him gravely over her shoulder, without looking at him; whereupon Adams, slightly disconcerted, put his hands in his pockets and turned to his wife.
"I guess dinner's more'n ready," he said.

"We better go sit down." But she shook her head at him fiercely, "Wait!" she whispered.
"What for?
For Walter ?" "No; he can't be coming," she returned, hurriedly, and again warned him by a shake of her head.

"Be quiet!" "Oh, well----" he muttered.
"Sit down!" He was thoroughly mystified, but obeyed her gesture and went to the rocking-chair in the opposite corner, where he sat down, and, with an expression of meek inquiry, awaited events.
Meanwhile, Alice prattled on: "It's really not a fault of mine, being tardy.