wish your brother to take what I offered him?"

"Because," she answered, in a tone of simplicity and sincerity he had
never yet heard from her, "it would not have been good for him. He's
young, and takes things too easily. He ought not to have money he does
not work for."

"I am glad that you feel like that," he said. "I was afraid you refused
to let him have it, because you were angry at me for sending him away."

He was afraid that she would relapse into her old tone of mock servility
and assure him that she would never be guilty of the liberty of
criticizing her employer, but she did not. She said:

"But I was not angry at you. I should not have respected you if you had
done anything else."

He answered seriously:

"You knew that I was sorry not to do what you asked me to do?"

"Yes, I knew," she said.

They did not speak again.

They left the car at the garage and walked to the house. There had been
failure in cooeperation, for Smithfield evidently had not known of the
expedition. The side door was locked, and so was the front door.

"I suppose I'd better ring," said Crane reluctantly. Somehow he was not
eager to face Smithfield's cold, reproving glance.

"No, follow me," whispered Jane-Ellen.

She led him to the kitchen entrance and pointed to a window.

"I don't believe that window has had a bolt for sixty years," she said.

"And to think," returned Crane, as he gently raised it, "that before I
took the house I complained of its being out of repair."

He climbed in and opened the kitchen door for her. He had a match, and
she knew the whereabouts of a candle. They still spoke in whispers.
There was, of course, no real reason why they were so eager to let the
household sleep undisturbed, yet they were obviously united in the
resolution to make no unnecessary sound.

"Wouldn't you like something to eat?" breathed Jane-Ellen.

"A good idea," he answered.

She divested herself of his coat and beckoned him to the ice-box. They
had entirely ceased to be master and servant.

"Some of that chicken salad you had for dinner," she murmured, "if any
of it came down. I dare say it didn't though. Smithfield's so fond of
it."

Crane laughed.

"You mean he eats in the pantry?"

She nodded.

"All butlers do, and Smithfield's a little bit greedy, though you'd
never guess it, would you?"

They laughed softly over Smithfield, as they spread out their simple
meal on the kitchen table. Jane-Ellen showed a