CHAPTER VIII

WAS IT A WOMAN?

Had Miss Raven and I suddenly been caught up out of that little coast
village and transported to the far East on a magic carpet, to be set
down in the twinkling of an eye on some Oriental threshold, we could
scarcely have been more surprised than we were at the sight of that
bland, smiling countenance. For the moment I was at a loss to think
who and what the man could be; he was in the dress of his own country,
a neat, close-fitting, high-buttoned blue jacket; there was a little
cap on his head, and a pigtail dependent from behind it--I was not
sufficiently acquainted with Chinese costumes to gather any idea of
his rank or position from these things--for aught I knew to the
contrary, he might be a mandarin who, for some extraordinary reason,
had found his way to this out-of-the-world spot. And my answer to his
courteous invitation doubtless sounded confused and awkward.

"Oh, thank you," I said, "pray don't let us put you to any trouble. If
we may just stand under your porch a moment--"

He stood a little aside, waving us politely into the hall behind him.

"Dr. Lorrimore would be very angry with me if I allowed a lady and
gentleman to stand in his door and did not invite them into his
house," he said, in the same even, mellifluous tones. "Please to
enter."

"Oh, is this Dr. Lorrimore's?" I said. "Thank you--we'll come in. Is
Dr. Lorrimore at home?"

"Presently," he answered. "He is in the village."

He closed the door as we entered, passed us with a bow, preceded us
along the hall, and threw open the door of a room which looked out on
a trim garden at the rear of the house. Still smiling and bland he
invited us to be seated, and then, with another bow, left the room,
apparently walking on velvet. Miss Raven and I glanced at each other.

"So Dr. Lorrimore has a Chinese man servant?" she said.
"How--picturesque!"

"Um!" I muttered.

She gave me a questioning, half-amused glance, and dropped her voice.

"Don't you like--Easterns?" she whispered.

"I like 'em in the East," I replied. "In Northumberland they
don't--shall we say they don't fit in with the landscape."

"I think he fits in--here," she retorted, looking round. "This is a
bit Oriental."

She was right in that. The room into which we had been ushered was
certainly suggestive of what one had heard of India. There were fine
Indian rugs on the floor; ivories and brasses in the cabinets; the
curtains were o