"Yes, and there's nothing like seeing something of the world to broaden a person," observed Alma, sagely. "When I'm grown up, I shall certainly travel. I intend to make a tour of the world. Egypt especially--goodness, I'd like to go to Egypt. That Edith Palliser was a lucky girl--her guardian took her to Paris and Rome and Cairo and even to Algiers, and she met all kinds of interesting people--a Spanish prince and a Russian count, and loads of artists and writers and things. I'm afraid that we must be terribly provincial."
"Ah, now, don't say that," remonstrated Hannah, who had no idea what "provincial" meant, and was consequently convinced that it must mean something very bad indeed. "Bless my soul! There's the bell--now who could be comin' here on a day like this?"
The door-bell had indeed been rung fiercely, and a second ring followed impatiently upon the first. Hannah vanished.
Alma sprang up, and running out into the hall leaned curiously over the bannister. In a moment she returned, looking as if she had seen a ghost, her mouth open, and her eyes popping.
"Nancy! Mother! I think it's _Uncle Thomas_!"
"Nonsense!" But Nancy too scrambled to her feet and stood listening with suspended breath. "Mother----!"
"No, my dear--it--it _couldn't_ be!" Mrs. Prescott had turned quite pale. "It must be just some tradesman. See--there's Hannah now."
But Hannah's face confirmed the dazing suspicion. Without even announcing the stupifying news, she leaned weakly against the doorway, and pressed her hand to her ample bosom, signifying an overwhelming agitation.
"The saints protect us, miss--ma'am! Sure, it's the old gentleman himself--as large as life, indeed. 'Is the missis home?' says he, and before I can draw breath--'Tell her Mr. Prescott is waitin' on her, and would like to see the young ladies,' says he. And he sticks his soakin' umbrella in the corner, and without takin' off his overshoes, stalks into the livin'-room. 'Humph!' says he, seein' the hole in the carpet, 'that's dangerous. I like to have broken me neck. Be good enough to hurry, ma'am,' says he, 'an' don't stand gawpin' at me like a simpleton.' 'Will ye have a seat, sir?' says I. 'I will, when I want one,' says he, short-like, and there he stands standin' and starin' around him, and suckin' at his lips, and kinda talkin' to hisself. What shall I be tellin' him, ma'am?"