long journey, retired early. Mr.
Jelnik and Doctor Geddes had gone off together. The secretary had to
finish a chapter. The Author lingered to ask, oddly enough, if I had
the original plan of Hynds House. Did I know who designed it?

"Why don't you interview Judge Gatchell?"

"I did. He was polite and friendly enough, but knows no more than
is strictly legal. He told me he found Hynds House here when he
arrived and expected to leave it here when he departed. And Geddes
knows no more. Geddes isn't interested in Hynds House by itself,"
finished The Author, with a crooked smile.

"Perhaps Mr. Jelnik may have some family papers."

"Perhaps he may. I'd give something for a whack at those papers,
Miss Smith."

"Why not ask him to let you see them, then?"

"Tut, tut!" said The Author, crossly, and took himself off.

When I was kimonoed, braided, and slippered, Alicia in like raiment
came in from her room next to mine, sat down on the floor, and
leaned her head against my knees, with her cheek against my hand.

For a while, as women do, we discussed the events of the evening.
Both of us had deep cause for gratification; yet both of us were
strangely subdued.

"Sophy, Peacocks and Ivory is a very wonderful person, isn't he?"
hesitated Alicia, after a long pause. She didn't lift her head; and
the cheek against my hand was warmer than usual.

"Yes," I agreed, quietly, "so wonderful that something never to be
replaced will have gone out of our lives when he goes away, and
doesn't come back any more. For that is what the Nicholas Jelniks
do, my dear."

"Is it?" Again she spoke after a pause. "I wonder! Somehow,
I--Sophy, he belongs here. He's--why, Sophy, he's a part of the
glamour."

"I'm afraid glamour hasn't part nor place in plain folks' lives."

"But we aren't plain folks any more, either, Sophy," she insisted.
"Why--why--_we're_ part of the glamour, too!"

"That is just about half true."

Alicia ignored this. She asked, instead:

"Did you hear what that great blundering doctor said about tinkling
out a tune on a piano?"

I could hear Mr. Jelnik praised by her or doubted by The Author. But
somehow I could not bear any criticism of Doctor Geddes just then. I
said stiffly:

"I have learned to appreciate Doctor Geddes."

"You are far too fair-minded not to." Presently: "Sophy?"

"Uh-huh."

"We aren't ever going to be sorry we came here--together--are we,
Sophy? And we won't ever let anybody come betwee