Smith were
actually at home, it was given by a sudden glow of red curtains in the
two front windows of the ground floor.

This touch of realism meant extra risk for Annesley in case Mrs.
Ellsworth were awake; but she took it with scarcely a qualm of fear. The
house was quiet, and there were ten chances to one against its mistress
being on the alert at this hour, so long past her bedtime.

When the girl had switched on the lights of the two-branched chandelier
over the dining table she beckoned to her companion, who noiselessly
followed her from the dark corridor into the room. There, with one
sweeping glance at the dull red walls, the oil-painted landscapes in
sprawling gilt frames, the heavy plush curtains, the furniture with its
"saddle-bag" upholstery, the common Turkish carpet, and the mantel mirror
with tasteless, tasselled draperies, "Nelson Smith" seemed to comprehend
the deadly "stuffiness" of Annesley Grayle's existence.

The look of Mrs. Ellsworth's middle-class dining room, and the atmosphere
whence oxygen had been excluded, were enough to tell him, if he had not
realized already, why the lady's companion had gone out to meet a strange
man "with a view to marriage."

To Annesley, however, for the first time, this room was neither hideous
nor depressing. It seemed years since she had seen it. She was a
different girl from the spiritless slave who had crept out after
luncheon, in the wake of her mistress: that short, shapeless form with
a large head set on a short neck, and a trailing, old-fashioned dress
of black.

Now, with a man holding her hands and calling her an angel--a "dear,
brave angel!"--it looked to the girl a beautiful room. There was glamour
upon it, and upon the rest of the world. Surely life could never seem
commonplace again!

"Ssh!" Annesley whispered. "We mustn't wake Mrs. Ellsworth, or she'll run
to the front door in her dressing gown and call 'Police!' She's old, but
her ears are sharp as a cat's. She can almost hear one _thinking_. But
I'm glad she can't quite. How frightful if she could!"

"Nothing about her need be frightful to you any more," said the man. "You
have saved me. Soon it will be my turn to rescue you."

"I haven't saved you yet," the girl reminded him. "_They_ are sure to be
waiting to see whether you come out. But I've thought of one more thing
to make them believe that you live here. I can steal softly upstairs to
the front room on the second floor, above the dra