make your acquaintance!"

Vane's eyes twinkled as he shook hands with her. Her manner was quaintly
formal, but he fancied that there was a spice of mischief hidden behind
it. Carroll, watching his hostess, surmised that her daughter's remarks
had not altogether pleased her. She chatted with them, however, until the
man who had driven them appeared with their baggage, when they were shown
their respective rooms.

Vane was the first to go down. Reaching the hall, he found nobody
there, though a clatter of dishes and a clink of silver suggested that
a meal was being laid out in an adjoining room. Sitting down near the
hearth, he looked about him. The house was old; a wide stairway with a
quaintly carved balustrade of dark oak ran up one side and led to a
landing, also fronted with ponderous oak rails. The place was shadowy,
but a stream of light from a high window struck athwart one part of it
and fell upon the stairs.

Vane's eyes rested on many objects that he recognized, but as his glance
traveled to and fro it occurred to him that much of what he saw conveyed
a hint that economy was needful. Part of the rich molding of the Jacobean
mantel had fallen away, and patches of the key pattern bordering the
panels beneath it had broken off, though he decided that a clever
cabinet-maker could have repaired the damage in a day. There were one or
two choice rugs on the floor, but they were threadbare; the heavy
hangings about the inner doors were dingy and moth-eaten; and, though all
this was in harmony with the drowsy quietness and the faint smell of
decay, it had its significance.

Presently he heard footsteps, and looking up he saw a girl descending the