hand, that when, at last, a door opened (not Mrs. Sherman's door at all,
but another), and a tall, upright masculine figure appeared in the
doorway, she at once jumped to the conclusion it was Shaw, the butler,
come to summon her into _the presence,_ and rose to follow, without too
much inner perturbation.

"Mrs. Sherman is prevented from keeping her appointment with you this
morning," descended to her from an altitude far above her own. "She
hopes you will excuse her. She has asked me to talk with you in her
stead. You are Miss Lang, I believe? I am Mrs. Sherman's brother. My
name is Ronald."




CHAPTER IX


It is hard to readjust all one's prearranged plans in the twinkling of
an eye. Claire felt as if she had received a sudden dash of cold water
square in the face. She quite gulped from the shock of it. How in the
world was she to adapt herself to this brand-new set of conditions on
such short notice--on no notice at all? How was she to be anything but
awkwardly monosyllabic?

"Sit down, please."

Obediently she sat.

"Martha--Mrs. Slawson--tells me, your father was Judge Lang of