“Delighted,” said Clifton, mounting the steps, followed by the other actor. “You’re very welcome on your own account,” said Baron, “and, besides, we all like to do anything we can to please Mrs. Tom Thumb.” He glanced sharply at Bonnie May, who nodded in her best manner and remarked, with delicacy of intonation: “Caught with the goods!” The little joke paved the way for really comfortable intercourse, and there was a highly satisfactory condition of sociability in the sitting-room up-stairs half an hour later when the street bell rang. It rang as if it were in the nature of a challenge. And the ring was almost immediately repeated. “Mrs. Shepard must be out,” said Flora. She went to respond. It was only the McKelvey girls, after all. Bonnie May heard their gay voices in the lower hall. And it occurred to her that there was danger of certain complications--complications which might not be wholly agreeable. She turned to Baron. “You know we’ve a hundred things to talk about--old times and old friends. Couldn’t we go up into your room until the company goes?” She referred to herself and the actors, of course. In his heart Baron could have blessed her for the thought. The McKelvey girls were on their way up-stairs, and he was not sure about the propriety of bringing the McKelvey girls into even a fleeting relationship with two actors whom none of them knew. “Why, if you like,” he said, with an air of reluctance--which he fully overcame by the promptness with which he arose and got the child and her friends started on their way. Flora might have decided to entertain her callers in the room down-stairs, if she had had any choice in the matter. But the McKelvey girls had always felt wholly at home in the mansion, and they had begun climbing the stairs before Flora closed the street door. Flora paused for an instant, changing from one arm to the other the huge bundle of flowers the elder Miss McKelvey had thrust at her upon entering. A wan, resigned smile trembled on her lips, and then she tossed her head ever so slightly. “Oh, what’s the difference!” she exclaimed to herself, and then she followed the others up the broad flight of stairs. Still, she was somewhat relieved to find no one but her brother in the room into which the visitors led the way. She did not know just what had happened, but she did not ask any questions. And then she heard the murmur of voices up in the attic, and understood. She brought a vase and put the flowers into it. “Don’t they look beautiful?” she asked. She had to lift her voice a little, because both of the McKelvey girls were talking at once. “They certainly do!” came the response in a wholly unexpected voice, and Flora turned and beheld the animated face of Mrs. Harrod, framed in the doorway.