He must not be allowed to come in, she decided at once, and to keep him out the door must be kept shut; for though he would not be rude unless he had been drinking wine, yet he was very suavely insolent, and quite capable, if refused admittance, of politely pushing past old Pompous and gracefully forcing himself into her presence. This must be prevented. The knocking was repeated with emphasis. Roma went and withdrew the key from the lock and put it into her pocket. Old Pompous now came strutting through the back door, and along the hall, to “make the entrance free.” The knocking was reiterated with impatience. “Loramity! Dey can’t wait a minute, whoeber dey is, an’ I comin’ as fas’ as I can.” “Pontius! Stop!” said Miss Fronde. “Yas, youn’ mist’ess. Des lemmy open de do’ fuss. Dey’s comp’ny out dere,” said the man, hurrying on. “Do nothing of the sort! Stop! I command you! Follow me into the parlor, and listen to what I have to say. Come, children,” said Miss Fronde; and pushing the little ones gently before her, she entered the sitting-room, closely attended by the huge negro. The knocking grew loud and peremptory. Pompous started impulsively to open the door, but recollecting his mistress’ prohibition, he hesitated. “Never mind the noise. Listen to me,” said Miss Fronde severely. “The person who is knocking out there is Mr. William Hanson, who came here one summer with his stepsister, Miss Rebecca Bushe. You remember him?” “Lor’, yes, youn’ mist’ess. I ’members ob him good—a werry nice-spoken gemman, an’ werry libbal, too. Gimmy fibe dollars w’en he went ’way,” exclaimed Pompous, making another start to answer the knocking, which was repeated at intervals. “Stay where you are and attend to me.” Pompous stopped and stared. “That man is not to be admitted on any account. Do you hear?” “A—a—a—we-dem not to leabe him come inter de house?” doubtfully inquired the stout negro, with eyes and mouth wide open with astonishment that any visitor should be denied admittance within the hospitable doors of Goblin Hall, and especially that an old friend should be turned ignominiously away. The knocking was resumed, much more loudly than before. Pompous looked distressed. “Lemme do somefin’ or yudder, youn’ mist’ess. ’Deed an’ ’deed it do makes me nerbous to year all dat knockin’ at de do’, an’ me stan’in’ yere doin’ nuffin w’en I’s so used to open de do’,” said the elephant, trembling. “I will tell you what to do, and first, why you are to do it. The man has disgraced himself. He is not fit for the company of decent people. He should be in the penitentiary.” “De Lor’!” ejaculated Pompous. “Therefore, do not open the front door, for the villain is quite capable of pushing past you and forcing himself into my presence.”