As they all knew there was no servant to answer the doorbell, they seldom bothered to ring, but opened the door, stepped into the hall, hung up their wraps on the long line of hooks, and went into the big, low-ceilinged living-room. If nobody was there, they usually took a book from one of the shelves lining the room and sat down before the fire to wait.

She was getting tired of New York, and anxious to leave for Philadelphia, being fearful lest certain little transactions in which she and her husband had taken part should become known to the police. She had nearly completed her packing when Paul rang the doorbell. The summons was answered by the landlady in person. "Is Mrs. Montgomery at home?" asked Paul.

I'm running ahead of the times a little, but I can see it all as clearly as if it existed now." Mrs. Merrill went about her duties that morning with a heavy heart, and more than once she paused to wipe away a tear that would have fallen on the linen she was sorting. At eleven o'clock the doorbell rang, and Ellen appeared at the entrance to the linen closet with a card in her hand. Mrs.

The sound of the doorbell made Saniel jump as if he had received an electric shock. "You will not open the door?" Phillis said. "Do not let any one take our evening from us." But soon another ring, more decided, brought him to his feet. "It is better to know," he said, and he went to open the door, leaving Phillis in his office. A maid handed him a letter.

She broke the sentence. Mrs. Brace had put up her hand, and now held her head to one side, listening. There was a step clearly audible outside, in the main hall. The next moment the doorbell rang. They sat motionless. When the bell rang again, Mrs. Brace informed her with a look that she would not answer it. But the ringing continued, became a prolonged jangle.

"Very well," Hal agreed. "But if I have not returned by noon, you will know something has happened, and you will proceed about the work with no further thought of me." He left the room quickly. He made inquiries at the hotel office, and half an hour later found himself before the residence of the German undersecretary of foreign affairs. He rang the doorbell. A footman answered the ring.

"Very good, ma'am," and touching his cap respectfully, he took from the limousine the heavy fur laprobe and hastened to ring the doorbell for his mistress. Halfway to her front door Mrs. Whitney paused to scan the outward appearance of her home. The large, Colonial, brick double house, with lights partly showing behind handsomely curtained windows, looked the embodiment of comfort, but Mrs.

He began to consult this list and the pile of letters from subscribers that the magazine had sent him, when the doorbell rang. Perhaps it was a patient, the good patient whom he had expected for four years. He left his desk to open the door. It was his coal man, who came with his bill. "I will stop some day when I am near you," Saniel said. "I am in a hurry this evening."

The only question that deserved serious consideration just now was to know where this meeting would be the least dangerous for him at Madame Dammauville's or at the Palais? He reflected silently, paying no more attention to Phillis than if she were not present, his eyes fixed, his brow contracted, his lips tightly closed, when the doorbell rang. As Joseph was at his post, Saniel did not move.

"I tried; I tried," she said; "but I can't!" It was after ten o'clock that night when Eleanor's icy fingers fumbled at Mrs. Newbolt's doorbell. The ring was not heard at first, because her aunt and Edith Houghton and Johnny Bennett were celebrating his departure the next day for South America, by making a Welsh rabbit in a chafing dish before the parlor fire. Mrs.