Alpha Book

"The Marble Guest, surely," Blanche said, "and very determined to be
heard."
Before the words were well uttered there was a sound of an altercation
in the hall--one of the tall footmen pathetically protesting, and a
shrill female voice refusing to listen to those plaintive protests. Then
there suddenly fell peace.
"After a storm there cometh a calm," Mr. Walraven said. "Miss Oleander,
shall we move on? Well, Johnson, what is it?"
For Johnson, the taller of the two tall footmen, stood before them
gazing beseechingly at his master.
"It's a woman, sir, all wet and dirty, and horrid to look at. She says
she will see you, and there she stands, and Wilson nor me we can't do
nothing with her. If you don't come she says she'll walk up here and
make you come. Them," said Johnson, plaintively, "were her own
language."
Blanche Oleander, gazing up at her companion's face, saw it changing to
a startled, dusky white.
"Some beggar--some troublesome tramp, I dare say." But he dropped her
arm abruptly as he said it. "Excuse me a moment, Miss Oleander.


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