"Well," I said, "I guess you won't put a dancing floor in the
dining-room just yet, Mr. Thoburn."

"I'm not in a hurry," he snapped. "It's only January, and I don't want
the place until May. I'll get it when I'm ready for it. I had a good
look at young Carter, and he's got too square a jaw to run a successful
neurasthenics' home."

I went to the pantry myself at ten o'clock and fixed a tray of supper
for Mr. Pierce. He would need all his strength the next day, and a man
can't travel far on buttered pop-corn. I found some chicken and got a
bottle of the old doctor's wine--I had kept the key of his wine-cellar
since he died--and carried the tray up to Mr. Pierce's sitting-room. He
had the old doctor's suite.

The door was open an inch or so, and as I was about to knock I heard a
girl's voice. It was Miss Patty!

"How can you deny it?" she was saying angrily. "I dare say you will even
deny that you ever saw this letter before!"

There was a minute's pause while I suppose he looked at the letter.

"I never did!" he said solemnly.

There had been a queer sound all along, but now I made it out. Some one
else was in the room, sniveling and crying.

"My poor lamb!" it whimpered. And I knew it was Mrs. Hutchins, Miss