"This is Guir House," said Dorothy, drawing up before the door. "Now
don't tell me how you like it, because you don't know. You must wait
until you have seen it by daylight."

She threw the reins to a stupid-looking servant, who took them as if
not quite knowing why he did so. She then made a signal to him with
her hands, and jumped lightly to the ground.

"Down, Beelzebub!" called Dorothy to a huge dog that had come out to
meet them, while the next instant she was engaged in exchanging
signals with the servant, who immediately led the horse away,
followed by the dog.

"Why does the boy not speak?" inquired Paul, considerably puzzled by
what he had seen.

"_Because he is dumb_," answered the girl, leading the way up to the
door.

Paul carried his luggage into the porch where he saw that Dorothy's
eyes were fixed upon him with that strange _quizzo-critical_ gaze,
with lids half closed and head tilted, which he had observed once
before, and which he could not help thinking gave her a very
aristocratic bearing.

"You should carry one of those long-handled lorgnettes," he
suggested, "when you look that way."

"And why?" she asked quite innocently.