"I--am sorry for your friend," her voice replied. "And I believe that I
forgive Mr. Hare--now that I know what detained him. I think I must have
heard them go by--just after I got in. Once I was sure I heard voices,
but, of course, I was expecting Mr. Hare to be alone."

"Ha!" thought Varney. "A Hunston romance!"

"You don't know Maginnis," he answered gloomily. "Nobody in the world
ever stays alone long when Maginnis can possibly get to him."

He heard something that he thought might be a faint laugh. And
immediately ten years more came off the lady's age, and she stood at
twenty-two. The young man began to consider with less distaste his
obvious duty of escorting her home.

In the momentary silence, wood somewhere near them once more creaked
loudly and scarily.

"Oh!" came her voice out of the blackness. "Would you mind striking a
match and seeing if there isn't a lamp or something we could light?"

"But I haven't a match--that's just it! If I _had_--! Why I assure you
I've been wishing for nothing so much as a light ever since you--ever
since I came in."

"If I were a man--" she began, vexedly, but suddenly checked herself.
"Are you quite sure you haven't a single _one_?"

"I'll gladly look again in all my twenty-seven pockets. I've been doing