CHAPTER VI.
Jack's impatience increased as the hour for Peter's visit approached.
Quarter of nine found him leaning over the banisters outside his small suite of rooms, peering down between the hand-rails watching the top of every head that crossed the spacious hall three flights below--he dare not go down to welcome his guest, fearing some of the girls, many of whom had already arrived, would know he was in the house.

Fifteen minutes later the flash of a bald head, glistening in the glare of the lower hall lantern, told him that the finest old gentleman in the world had arrived, and on the very minute.

Parkins's special instructions, repeated for the third time, were to bring Mr.Peter Grayson--it was wonderful what an impressive note was in the boy's voice when he rolled out the syllables--up at once, surtout, straight-brimmed hat, overshoes (if he wore any), umbrella and all, and the four foot-falls--two cat-like and wabbly, as befitted the obsequious flunky, and two firm and decided, as befitted a grenadier crossing a bridge--could now be heard mounting the stairs.
"So here you are!" cried Peter, holding out both hands to the overjoyed boy--"'way up near the sky.

One flight less than my own.

Let me get my breath, my boy, before I say another word.