the daytime. His silk hat was glossy but broad-brimmed; his
masses of gray hair, brushed back from a high, broad forehead, gave
him almost a patriarchal aspect. His features were large and fairly
well-shaped, but his mouth was weak and his cheeks lacked the color of
a healthy life. Tavernake stared at him open-mouthed. He, for his part,
looked at Tavernake as he might have looked at some strange wild animal.

"A thousand apologies, dear Elizabeth!" he exclaimed. "I knocked, but I
imagine that you did not hear me. Knowing your habits, it did not occur
to me that you might be engaged at this hour of the morning."

"It is a young man from the house agent's," she announced indifferently,
"come to see me about a flat."

"In that case," he suggested amiably, "I am, perhaps, not in the way."

Elizabeth turned her head slightly and looked at him; he backed
precipitately toward the door.

"In a few minutes," he said. "I will return in a few minutes."

Tavernake attempted to follow his example.

"There is no occasion for your friend to leave," he protested. "If you
have any instructions for us, a note to the office will always bring
some one here to see you."

She sat up on the couch and smiled at him. His obvious embarrassment
amused her. It was a new sort of game, this, altogether.

"Come, Mr. Tavernake," she said, "three minutes more won't matter, will
it? I will not keep you longer than that, I promise."

He came reluctantly a few steps back.

"I am sorry," he explained, "but we really are busy this morning."

"This is business," she declared, still smiling at him pleasantly. "My
sister has filled you with suspicions about me. Some of them may be
justifiable, some are not. I am not so rich as I should like some people
to believe. It is so much easier to live well, you know, when people
believe that you are rolling in money. Still, I am by no means a pauper.
I cannot afford to take Grantham House, but neither can I afford to go
on living here. I have decided to make a change, to try and economize,
to try and live within my means. Now will you bring me a list of small
houses or flats, something at not more than say two or three hundred
a year? It shall be strictly a business proceeding. I will pay you for
your time, if that is necessary, and your commission in advance. There,
you can't refuse my offer on those terms, can you?"

Tavernake remained silent. He was conscious that his lack of response
seemed both sulle