But he opened the gate, disdaining to speak to them, and when they knew him, it was a pack of very humble, wet, and penitent hounds that came wagging up alongside.

He let them wag unnoticed.
Lights burned in his house, one in Shiela's apartments, several in the west wing where the Tressilvains were housed.

A servant, locking up for the night, came across the dripping veranda to admit him; and he went upstairs and knocked at his wife's door.
Shiela's maid opened, hesitated; and a moment later Shiela appeared, fully dressed, a book in her hand.

It was one of Hamil's architectural volumes.
"Well, Shiela," he said lightly; "I got in to-night and rather expected to see somebody; but nobody waited up to see me! I'm rather wet--it's raining--so I won't trouble you.

I only wanted to say good night." The quick displeasure in her face died out.