Mamma had gone down-town to shop. She had asked Nora to look after
Jane Gladys, and Nora promised she would. But it was her afternoon
for polishing the silver, so she stayed in the pantry and left Jane
Gladys to amuse herself alone in the big sitting-room upstairs.

The little girl did not mind being alone, for she was working on her
first piece of embroidery--a sofa pillow for papa's birthday
present. So she crept into the big bay window and curled herself up
on the broad sill while she bent her brown head over her work.

Soon the door opened and closed again, quietly. Jane Gladys thought
it was Nora, so she didn't look up until she had taken a couple more
stitches on a forget-me-not. Then she raised her eyes and was
astonished to find a strange man in the middle of the room, who
regarded her earnestly.

He was short and fat, and seemed to be breathing heavily from his
climb up the stairs. He held a work silk hat in one hand and
underneath his other elbow was tucked a good-sized book. He was
dressed in a black suit that looked old and rather shabby, and his
head was bald upon the top.

"Excuse me," he said, while the child gazed at him in solemn
surprise. "Are you Jane Gladys Brown?"

"Yes, sir," she answered.

"Very good; very good, indeed!" he remarked, with a queer sort of
smile. "I've had quite a hunt to find you, but I've succeeded at