But she did not notice this; she was too sure of her welcome.
Raising her hand to the knocker, she gave two sharp raps.

Then she waited.

No answer from within--no sound of hurrying steps--only another rumble in the sky and a quick rustling of the trees on either side of her as if the wind which made the horizon black had sent an _avant-courieur_ over the hilltops.
"Elvira is out--gone to some church meeting or social gathering down in the village.

She will be back.

But I won't wait.