"Thank you, Diggs. Please give my message to Mrs. Bingle."

"Very good, Miss."

"By the way, is this Mr. Flanders tall and fair, with dark grey eyes,
a rather broad mouth and just the tiniest sort of a wave in his hair--
especially above the ears? And a small white scar on his left thumb?"

Diggs arose to the demands of the occasion, as he always did. "Yes,
Miss. Quite accurate, I'm sure. And a very pleasant voice, I may add
if you don't mind."

"Thank you, Diggs," said Miss Fairweather for the third time, and then
scurried across the hall and up the broad staircase, accelerating her
speed materially as the library door was thrown open and lively
masculine voices came booming up from behind her.

"Sounds like a scene from a novel," said Melissa to Diggs, "A
mysterious stranger appears to disturb the peace and quiet of our
heroine. She runs off and hides in her room, shivering with dread lest
this spectre out of her dark past---"

"Rubbish!" said Mr. Diggs.

"Sure," said Melissa. "That's what most novels are. It's my opinion
that that young lady's been on the stage, Mr. Diggs. She acts just
like an actress. I've noticed that in her from the beginning. And the
other day she had a letter from a theatrical manager. I saw the name
on the envelope."