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Faintly he heard Ellen Berstoun's voice, and the same look came into his eyes as when he caught the distant roaring of the train. He straightened his neck, banished all expression from his face as a soldier should, and entered the room.
Berstoun is coming to see you?" asked Miss Walkingshaw. He waved aside this objection with a dignified sweep of his hand. A piece of cake happened to be in it, and the icing flew across the floor. On the instant he was on his hands and knees collecting it. "Berstoun's a mere nuisance," he answered from the carpet. "He'll never get out of debt if he lives to a thousand.
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