he cryptic threat contained in the last words was never carried
out. The dinner was perfect, and Owen was back in his old position as
something between a brother and a lover, full of admiring great laughs
for Sandy and boyish confidences. There was not a cloud on the evening
for Mrs. Salisbury. And the question of Justine's conduct was laid on
the shelf.

CHAPTER IV

After the dinner party domestic matters seemed to run even more
smoothly than before, but there was a difference, far below the
surface, in Mrs. Salisbury's attitude toward the new maid. The mistress
found herself incessantly looking for flaws in Justine's perfectness;
for things that Justine might easily have done, but would not do.

In this Mrs. Salisbury was unconsciously aided and abetted by her
sister, Mrs. Otis, a large, magnificent woman of forty-five, who had a
masterful and assured manner, as became a very rich and influential
widow. Mrs. Otis had domineered Mrs. Salisbury throughout their
childhood; she had brought up a number of sons and daughters in a
highly successful manner, and finally she kept a houseful of servants,
whom she managed with a firm hand, and managed, it must be admitted,
very well. She had seen the Treasure many times before, but it was
while spending a day in November with her sister that she first
expressed her disapproval of Justine.

"You spoil her, Sarah," said Mrs. Otis. "She's a splendid cook, of
course, and a nice-mannered girl. But you spoil her."

"I? I have nothing to do with it," Mrs. Salisbury asserted promptly.
"She does exactly what the college permits; no more and no less."

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Otis said largely, genially. And she exchanged an
amused look with Sandy.

The three ladies were in the little library, after luncheon, enjoying a
coal fire. The sisters, both with sewing, were in big armchairs. Sandy,
idly turning the pages of a new magazine, sat at her mother's feet. The
first heavy rain of the season battered at the windows.

"Now, that darning, Sally," Mrs. Otis said, glancing at her sister's
sewing. "Why don't you simply call the girl and ask her to do it?
There's no earthly reason why she shouldn't be useful. She's got
absolutely nothing to do. The girl would probably be happier with some
work in her hands. Don't encourage her to think that she can whisk
through her lunch dishes and then rush off somewhere. They have no
conscience about it, my dear. You're the mistress, and you are sup