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. The shameful truth is I was trying to hurry papa. He's incorrigible: he stays so late at his terrible old factory—terrible new factory, I should say. I hope you don't hate us for
