"What's that?" exclaimed she aghast.
"It's a bell."
"I never heard a bell like that in this house."
"It's a bell I rigged up one day when you were gone to the Junction,"
exclaimed Willie hurriedly. "I thought I told you about it."
"You didn't."
"Well, no matter now," he went on soothingly.
"I meant to."
"Where is it?" demanded Celestina.
"It's in the hall. It's a new front-door bell, that's what it is,"
proclaimed the inventor, his voice lost in a second deafening peal.
"My soul! It's enough to wake the dead!" gasped Celestina, with hands
on her ears. "I should think it could be heard from here to Nantucket.
What set you gettin' a bell that size, Willie? 'Twould scare any
caller who dared to come this way out of a year's growth. I'll have to
go an' see who's there, if he ain't been struck dumb on the doorsill.
Who ever can it be--comin' to the front door?"
With perturbed expectancy she hurried through the passageway, Willie
tagging at her heels.
The infrequently patronized portal of the Spence mansion, it proved,
was so securely barred and bolted that to unfasten it necessitated no
little time and patience; even after locks and fastenings had been
withdrawn and the door was at liberty to move, not knowing what to do
with its unaccustomed freedom it refused to stir, stubbornly resisting
every attempt to wrench its hinges asunder.
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