All of
a sudden he heard a voice speaking to him as if from a graveyard. It
said 'Good evenin', Duke!' Did I tell you my great-grandpa was a duke?
Well, he was. 'Good evenin', Duke,' said the voice, coming from
nowhere in--"
"Did it say it twice?" demanded Reginald.
"Four or five times," said Melissa; "because Grandpa wasn't sure he
heard it the first time. He looked everywhere. Finally he saw it. It
was perched right there on his knee--a awful, horrid, bluggy head with
its moustache twisted up like Swanson's on Sunday. It--Oh, Lordy!"
Mr. Bingle entered the nursery. The children stared at him as if at
the long-expected ghost, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. His sandy,
greyish hair which of late had been trained to lie quite sleek and
precise across the widening bald-spot, was now in a state of wild
disorder. It stood out "every which way," according to Melissa's
subsequent description, and lent to his appearance an aspect of
fierceness that was almost inconceivable. Somehow they were all
surprised when this sinister figure spoke, for his voice was kind and
gentle, and not at all what one might have looked for in a maniac.
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