There was the pitter-patter of feet upon the marble floor, a few muffled whispers, then a key was turned in the lock, and the front door was flung, revealing an elderly gentleman, clad in a tailcoat. The man bowed, as best he could for one of his advance years, addressing the angel in a polite, if somewhat breathy voice. "Good evening, Mad'am. What brings you to the Atwater estate, and how might I we of service? Please, do come in." Jeffrey, for that was his name, waved a hand in welcome, ushering her inside.