"I hope I've done right," Mary said.

"Quite right," Julia answered, though she did not feel so sure of it.
The name and the vague description of the visitor somehow suggested to
her mind the stranger who had ridden past with young Mr. Rawson-Clew.
She went up-stairs, uneasy as much from intuition as from experience.
In the hall she stood a minute. The dining-room door did not shut too
well, the lock was old and worn, and unless it was fastened carefully,
it came open; the Captain never managed to fasten it, and now it stood
ajar; Julia could hear something of what was said within almost as
soon as she reached the top of the kitchen stairs. The visitor spoke
quietly, his words were not audible, but the Captain's voice was
raised with excitement.

"The money, sir, the money that your cousin lent--accommodation
between gentlemen--"

So Julia heard incompletely, and then another disjointed sentence.

"Do you take me for an adventurer, a sharper? I am a soldier, sir, a
soldier and a gentleman--at least, I was--I mean I was a soldier, I am
a gentleman--"

Julia came swiftly up the hall, the instinct of the female to spread
frail wings and protect her helpless belongings (old equally as much
as young) was strong upon her. The pushed open the dining-room door
and walked in.

"Father," she said, "is anything the matter?"