"Yes, sir; if there ain't anything to hinder."

Mr. Tuxbury stared at her. "Why, I don't know that there is really
anything to hinder," he said, slowly. "Although it is rather-- No, I
don't know as there is any actual objection to your going. I suppose
the house belongs to you. But it is shut up. I think you would find
it much pleasanter here, Mrs. Maxwell." His eyebrows were raised,
his mouth pursed up.

"I guess I'd better go, if I can jest as well as not; if I can get
into the house." Mrs. Field spoke with deprecating persistency.

Mr. Tuxbury turned abruptly toward his desk, and began fumbling in a
drawer. She stood hesitatingly watchful. "If you would jest tell me
where I'd find the key," she ventured to remark. She had a vague idea
that she would be told to look under a parlor blind for the key, that
being the innocent country hiding-place when the house was left
alone.

"I have the key, and I will go to the house with you myself
directly."

"I hate to make you so much trouble. I guess I could find it myself,
if--"

"I will be ready immediately, Mrs. Maxwell," said the lawyer, in a
smoothly conclusive voice which abashed her.

She stood silently by the door until he was ready. He took her black