"Why!" she exclaimed, in an alarmed whisper. "Why! I never heard of
such brazen impertinence in my life. He must be insane. He is a lunatic,
isn't he, Edwards?"

The butler shook his head. "I--I don't know, ma'am," he stammered.

"I believe he is." Mrs. Dunn's presence of mind was returning, and with
it her courage. Her florid cheeks flamed a more vivid red, and her eyes
snapped. "But whether he is or not, he sha'n't bulldoze me."

She strode majestically to the door. The visitor was seated in the hall,
calmly reading a newspaper. Hat and suit-case were on the floor beside
him.

"What do you mean by this?" demanded the lady. "Who are you? If you have
any business here, state it at once."

The man glanced at her, over his spectacles, rose and stood looking down
at her. His expression was pleasant, and he was remarkably cool.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, gravely. "I'll be glad to tell you who I am,
if you'd like to have me. I'd have done it before, but I thought there
weren't any use troublin' you with my affairs. But, just a minute--"
he hesitated--"I haven't made any mistake, have I? I understood your
steward--the feller with the brass buttons, to say that Abijah Warren's
children lived here. That's so, ain't it? If not, then I AM mistaken."

Mrs. Dunn regarded him with indignation. "You are," she said coldly.
"The family of the late Mr. Rodgers Warren lives here. I presume the