of books, pamphlets, and maps was under his arm and he had only to
bestow it upon the maid and give her the accompanying directions. But,
at this precise moment, Richard caught sight of a figure running down
the staircase; concluded in one glance, as he had concluded in one
glance before, that if a personality could be expressed by a speaking
voice, a laugh, and a rose-hued scarf, this must be the one they
expressed; and decided in the twinkling of an eye to wait. The maid
conducted him toward the room on the right of the hall and he followed
her, passing as he did so the person who had reached the foot of the
stairs and who went by him in such haste that he had only time to give
her one short but--it must be described as--concentrated look straight
in the eyes. She in turn bestowed upon him the one glance necessary to
inform her whether she knew him and so must stay long enough in her
rapid progress to greet him. Their eyes therefore met at rather close
range, lingered for the space of two running seconds, and parted.

Richard Kendrick accepted the chair offered him and sat upon it for the
space of some eighteen-odd minutes; they might have been hours or
seconds, he could not have told which. He could hardly have described
the room to which he had been shown, unless to say that it was a square,
old-fashioned reception room, a little formal, decidedly quaint, and
dignified, and clearly not used by the family as other rooms were used.
Certainly the piano, from which he had heard the Schumann music on his
former visit, was not here, and certainly there were no rose-hued scarfs
flung carelessly about. It was undoubtedly a place kept for the use of
strange callers like himself, and had small part in the life of the
household.

At length he was summoned to Judge Gray's library. He was met with the
same pleasant courtesy as before, delivered his parcel, and lingered as