window!"

Miss Cornelia quelled her with a gesture and turned back to the
young man. He was standing just where she had left him, his cap
in his hands--but, while her back had been turned, his eyes had
made a stealthy survey of the living-room--a survey that would
have made it plain to Miss Cornelia, if she had seen him, that his
interest in the Fleming establishment was not merely the casual
interest of a servant in his new place of abode. But she had not
seen and she could have told nothing from his present expression.

"Have you had anything to eat lately?" she asked in a kindly voice.

He looked down at his cap. "Not since this morning," he admitted
as Billy answered the bell.

Miss Cornelia turned to the impassive Japanese. "Billy, give this
man something to eat and then show him where he is to sleep."

She hesitated. The gardener's house was some distance from the
main building, and with the night and the approaching storm she
felt her own courage weakening. Into the bargain, whether this
stranger had lied about his gardening or not, she was curiously
attracted to him.

"I think," she said slowly, "that I'll have you sleep in the house
here, at least for tonight. Tomorrow we can--the housemaid's room,
Billy," she told the butler. And before their departure she held
out a candle and a box of matches.