the hair grew at the back of her neck, how small and well
shaped were her ears. His manner became even more protecting.

"I am an older man than your employer--" he began.

"Yes, indeed, sir."

He decided not to notice the interruption.

"I am older and have seen more of life. I understand more, perhaps, of
the difficulties of a young, and I must say, beautiful woman,
Jane-Ellen--"

"Why must you say that, sir?" Her eyes fixed themselves on his.

"Because it is the truth, my dear child." He again approached the range,
but as a fountain instantly rose from the sauce he retreated and
continued: "I would like, if any little troubles in the household arise,
to know that you look upon me as a friend, both you and Willoughby." (He
thought it not amiss to introduce the comic note now and again.) "I have
some influence with Mr. Crane. I should be glad to do you a good turn."

"You can do me one now, sir."

"Pray, tell me what it is."

"You can go away and let me get the dinner."

"You want me to go?"

"The kitchen is no place for gentlemen."

Tucker laughed tolerantly.

"Did you think so ten minutes ago?"

For the second time she looked in his direction, as she asked quickly:

"What do you mean?"

"Your last visitor was not so respectful."

She had put down the saucepan now, and so he approached and tried to
take her hand.

Perhaps this is as good a time as any other to describe the sensation of
taking Jane-Ellen's hand. The ordinary mortal put out an ordinary hand,
and touched something, something presumably flesh and blood, but so
light, so soft, so pliant, that it seemed literally to melt into the
folds of his palm, so that even after the hand had been withdrawn (and
in this instance it was instantly withdrawn) the feeling seemed to
remain, and Tucker found himself staring at his own fingers to see if
they did not still bear traces of that remarkable contact.

It was just at this moment that Brindlebury entered the kitchen and
said, in a tone which no one could have considered respectful, that the
motor was coming up the drive.

Tucker was more apt to meet an awkward situation--and the situation was
slightly awkward--by an additional dignity of manner rather than by any
ill-considered action.

"Ah," he now observed, "in that case I think I must go and meet it."

"I think I would, if I were you," replied the boy, and added to the
cook, in case there was any mistake about his meaning: "It seems to