have any servants' doors to your houses? There have been no less than
fifty peddlers on my porch since yesterday and my butler will die of
apoplexy if it keeps on. He's a good one, for a wonder, and I don't want
to lose him."

I made no reply to this observation and he did not seem to expect any.
He watched Zeb rake for a moment and then he turned back to me.

"Can you come over to my house now?" he asked.

I was not expecting this and again I did not have an answer ready.

"Can you?" he went on. "I've got a business deal to make with you and
I'd rather make it there. I've got a lot of carpenters and painters
at work and they ask me ten questions a minute. They are unnecessary
questions but if I don't answer them the fellows are sure to make some
fool mistake or other. They need a governess. If you'll come over with
me I'll be in touch with them and you and I can talk just as well. Can
come, can't you?"

I did not know what to say. I wanted to say no, that if he had any
business with me it could be discussed in that boathouse. I did not like
his manner, yet I had a feeling that it was his usual one and that he
had not meant to be rude. And I could think of no good reason for not
going with him.

"You can come, can't you?" he repeated.

"I suppose I can. But--"