"put the live stock out! An early
meal, a long evening--what better could we add than a couple of long
stories?"

In the doing of what Truedale commanded, Lynda found a certain relief.
These visits were like grim plays, to be sure, but they were also sacred
duties. This one, after the lapse of time filled with new and strange
emotions, was a bit grimmer than usual, but it had the effect of a tonic
upon the ragged nerves of the two actors.

The round table was set by the fire--it was the manservant who attended
now; silver and glass and linen were perfect, and the simple fare
carefully chosen and prepared.

Truedale was never so much at his ease as when he presided at these
small dinners. He ate little; he chose the rarest bits for his guest; he
talked lightly--sometimes delightfully. At such moments Lynda realized
what he must have been before love and health failed him.

To-night--shut away from all else, the strain of the past weeks ignored,
the long stories deliberately pushed aside--Truedale spoke of the books
he had been reading; Lynda, of her work.

"I have two wonderful houses to do," she said, poising a morsel of food
gracefully. "One is for a couple recently made rich; they do not dare to
move for fear of going wrong. I have that place from garret to cellar.
It's an awful responsibility--but lots of fun!"

"It must be. Spending other people's money and making them as good as
new at the same time, must be rare sport. And the other contract?"

"Oh! that is another matter." Lynda leaned back and laughed. "I'm toning
up an old house. Putting false fronts on, a bit of rouge, filling in
wrinkles; in short, giving a side-tracked old lady something to interest
her. She doesn't know it, but I'm letting her do the work, and she's
very happy. She has a kind of rusty good taste. I'm polishing it without
hurting her. The living room! Why, Uncle William, it is a picture. It is
a tender dream come true."

"And you are charging for that, you pirate?"

"I do not have to. The dear soul is so grateful that I'm forced to
refuse favours."

"Lynda, ring for Thomas." Truedale drew his brows close. "I think
I'll--I'll smoke. It may help me to sleep after the long stories
and--when I am alone." He rarely indulged in this way--tobacco excited
instead of soothed him--but the evening must have all the clear thought
possible!

CHAPTER IV

Lynda sat again upon her ottoman--her capacity for sitting hours without
a su