When Mr. Force rang the front door-bell, Mr. and Mrs. Bingle were
seated before the fire in the library. Kathleen sat upon the former's
knee. The rest of the children had been sent off to the huge playroom
on the top floor, and their distant shrieks, muffled by the
thicknesses of many doors and walls, came faintly down to the
fireside. With the subdued, even refined jingle of the door-bell, the
two Bingles straightened up in their chairs and looked into each
other's eyes, suddenly apprehensive. Who could be calling on them at
such an early hour? Was it some one in connection with this unhappy
business? Could it be possible that they had come to take Kathleen
away so soon?

"Better run upstairs, now, Kathie," said Mr. Bingle, abruptly.
"Skedaddle! Go up the back way, dear." He thought of the back-stairs
just in time. It wouldn't do for her to encounter the strange, perhaps
unfeeling emissaries in the main hall. No telling what they might do.
They might even take forcible possession of her and be off before help
could be summoned.

"I want to stay here with you, daddy," protested Kathleen, resolutely
clinging to her perch on his knee--and was not to be dislodged. Before
Mr. Bingle could utter another word, Diggs appeared in the door and
announced Mr. Force. Instantly Kathleen's manner changed. She released
her grip on Mr. Bingle's arm and slid to the floor. "Oh, I hate him! I
don't want to see him."

"Kathie!" cried Mrs. Bingle, distressed. "You should not say such
things. Mr. Force is very nice to you. He likes you--"

"He gives me a pain," said Kathleen succinctly.