hole plan anyhow." And then fearing she had betrayed too much, she
added, "And now you might tell me who you are."

"My name is Lefferts."

"Any relation to the poet?"

It would be impossible to deny that this unexpected proof of his fame
was agreeable to Lefferts. The conversation on the stairs became more
absorbing, and the note was less likely to be delivered at all.

In the meantime Claudia, while setting the table in the dining-room, had
sent Crane down to the kitchen floor to get something out of the
ice-box. As Crane approached this object about which so many sentimental
recollections gathered, he saw he had been anticipated. A figure was
already busy extracting from it a well-filled plate. At his step, the
figure turned quickly. It was Brindlebury.

Even Brindlebury seemed to appreciate that, after all that had occurred
in connection with his last departure, to be caught once again in
Crane's house was a serious matter. It would have been easy enough to
save himself by a confession that he was one of the Revellys, but to
tell this without the consent of his brother and sisters would have been
considered traitorous in the extreme.

He backed away from the ice-box. "Mr. Crane," he said, with unusual
seriousness, "you probably feel that an explanation is due you." And
there he stopped, not being able at the moment to think of anything to
say.

Crane took pity on him. "Brindlebury," he said, "it would be ungenerous
of me to conceal from you that our relative positions are reversed. At
the present moment the power is all in your hands. Have a cigarette. I
believe you used to like this brand."

"Only when I had smoked all my own."

"You see, Brindlebury, it is not only that I am obliged to forgive you,
I have to go further. I have to make up to you. For the truth is,
Brindlebury, that I want to marry your sister."

"You want to marry Jane-Ellen?"

"More than I can tell you."

"And what does she say?"

"She likes the idea."

"Bless my soul! you are going to be my brother-in-law."

"No rose without its thorn, I understand."

The situation was too tempting to the boy's love of a joke. He seated
himself on the top of the ice-box and folded his arms.

"I do not know," he said, "that I should be justified in giving my
consent to any such marriage. Would it tend to make my sister happy? The
woman who marries above her social position--the man who marries his
cook--is bound to regret it. Have you conside