and
fastened securely. James somehow got an impression of secrecy, that it
was considered necessary that no glimpse of the interior should be
obtained from without after the lamp was lit. They sat often carelessly
at his own home of an evening with the shades up, and all the interior
of the room plainly visible from the road. An utter lack of secrecy was
in James's own character. He scowled a little, as he returned to his
seat by the fire. He was too confused to think clearly, but he was
conscious of a certain homesickness for the wonted things of his life,
when the door opened and the woman reentered.

James rose, and she spoke in her sweet voice. It was rather lower
pitched than the voices of most women, and had a resonant quality. "Your
room is quite ready, Doctor Elliot," said she. "Your trunk is there. If
you would like to go there before dinner, I will pilot you. We have but
one maid, and she is preparing the dinner, which will be ready as soon
as you are. I hope Doctor Gordon and Clemency will have returned by that
time, too."

By Clemency James understood that she meant her daughter, of whom Doctor
Gordon had spoken. He wondered at the unusual name, as he followed his
hostess. His room was on the same floor as the living-room. She threw
open a door at the other side of the hall, and James saw an exceedingly
comfortable apartment with a hearth-fire, with book-shelves, and a
couch-bed covered with a rug, and a desk. "I thought you would prefer
this room," said the woman. "There are others on the second floor, but
this has the advantage of your being able to use it as a sitting-room,
and you may like to have your friends, whom I trust you will find in
Alton, come in from time to time. You will please make yourself quite
at home."

James had not yet fairly comprehended the beauty of the woman. He was
still too dazzled. Had he gone away at that time, he could not for the
life of him have described her, but he did glance, as a woman might have
done, at her gown. It was of a soft heavy red silk, trimmed with lace,
and was cut out in a small square at the throat. This glimpse of firm
white throat made James wonder as to evening costume for himself. At
home he never dreamed of such a thing, but here it might be different.
His hostess divined his thoughts. She smiled at him as if he were a
child. "No," said she, "you do not need to dress for dinner. Doctor
Gordon never does when we are by ourselves."

Then she went a