ry put a new face on the matter. He
deserved reproof, to say nothing of the fact that he might tell in a
mistaken desire to protect his sister from annoyance. To tell any of
this to Mrs. Falkener was to put a weapon in her hands which she would
not fail to use to get Jane-Ellen out of the house within twenty-four
hours. Tucker's first idea was that he did not wish Jane-Ellen to leave
the house.

But, as he sat stirring his tea, another thought came to him. Why should
she not leave, why should she not become his own cook? Crane, after all,
only offered her employment for a few weeks, whereas he--He decided that
it would be better for Crane to get rid of her; he decided, as he put it
to himself, to be perfectly open with his friend. If Crane turned her
out, then he, Tucker, would be there, helpful and ready, like the
competent middle-aged hero of the drama, whom she herself had so well
described.

He joined but little in the conversation round the tea-table, and Mrs.
Falkener, watching him narrowly, feared from his gravity that something
serious had happened, that the situation was worse than she had
imagined. What, she wondered, had occurred in the last twenty-four
hours? What had those evil women with manicured nails accomplished in
her absence? She manoeuvered two or three times to get a word with
Tucker, but he seemed unconscious of her efforts.

When at last they all agreed it was time to dress for dinner, Tucker
laid a detaining hand on his host's arm.

"Could I have just a word with you, Burt?" he said.

Crane always felt like a naughty child when his friend spoke to him like
this.

"Wouldn't later do?" he asked. "I want to get a bath before dinner, and
if we keep it waiting we may spoil some of those wonderful dishes that
star-eyed beauty in the kitchen is preparing for us."

"It is about her I want to speak to you."

Both ladies and Crane turned instantly at these words. Then the
Falkeners with a strong effort of self-control left the room, and the
two men were alone.

"Well, what is it?" said Crane, rather sharply.

Tucker was now all suavity.

"I'm afraid, after all," he began, sitting down and swinging one leg
over the other, "that you won't be able to keep that young person. I'm
afraid Mrs. Falkener was right. Women know these things at a glance."

"What things?"

"Why, I mean that in spite of her good dinner, I'm afraid your cook,
Burt, is not--Well, I'd better tell you just what is in my mi