uld be impressed by the difference
between our parlour and our kitchen," replied the girl quaintly, "and
it is warmer here."

"What's the matter with the parlour now?" demanded her father sourly.
"It was good enough for your mother and me. It used to be good enough
for you."

"There is nothing the matter with it, nor with the kitchen either."
She turned impassively to the two who had followed her along the
narrow passage. "Will you go in, sir?"

"I don't want to see no gentleman," cried Hutchins noisily.
"Unless"--his manner suddenly changed to one of pitiable
anxiety--"unless you're from the Company sir, to--to--"

"No; I have come on Mr. Carlyle's behalf," replied Carrados, walking
to a chair as though he moved by a kind of instinct.

Hutchins laughed his wry contempt.

"Mr. Carlyle!" he reiterated; "Mr. Carlyle! Fat lot of good he's been.
Why don't he _do_ something for his money?"

"He has," replied Carrados, with imperturbable good-humour; "he has
sent me. Now, I want to ask you a few questions."

"A few questions!" roared the irate man. "Why, blast it, I have done
nothing else but answer questions for a month. I didn't pay Mr.
Carlyle to ask me questions; I can get enough of that for nixes. Why
don't you go and ask Mr. Herbert Ananias Mead your few questions--then
you might find out something."

There was a slight movement by the door and Carrados knew that the
girl had quietly left the room.

"You saw that, sir?" demanded the father, diverted to a new line of
bitterness. "You saw that girl--my own daughter, that I've worked for
all her life?"

"No," replied Carrados.

"The girl that's just gone out--she's my daughter," explained
Hutchins.

"I know, but I did not see her. I see nothing. I am blind."

"Blind!" exclaimed the old fellow, sitting up in startled wonderment.
"You mean it, sir? You walk all right and you look at me as if you saw
me. You're kidding surely."

"No," smiled Carrados. "It's quite right."

"Then it's a funny business, sir--you what are blind expecting to find
something that those with their eyes couldn't," ruminated Hutchins
sagely.

"There are things that you can't see with your eyes, Hutchins."

"Perhaps you are right, sir. Well, what is it you want to know?"

"Light a cigar first," said the blind man, holding out his case and
waiting until the various sounds told him that his host was smoking
contentedly. "The train you were driving at the time of the accident
was