he
man.

Trix's chin went up. "I'm sorry. I apologize. I'll go."

"No, don't," said the man. "Sit down."

Trix sat down near a table. She looked straight at him.

"Well," she asked, "what do you want to say to me?"

"I am Nicholas Danver," he said.

"I was quite sure of that," nodded Trix. She was recovering her
self-possession.

"I had an excellent reason for allowing people to imagine I was dead," he
remarked, "as excellent a one, perhaps, as yours for your--your
unexpected appearance."

"I'm glad you didn't say 'intrusion' again," said Trix thoughtfully.

Nicholas gave a short laugh.

There was a little silence.

"Doctor Hilary must have told a dreadful lot of lies," said Trix slowly
and not a little regretfully.

"On the contrary," said Nicholas, "he told none."

Trix looked up quickly.

"Listen," said Nicholas, "it's quite an interesting little history in its
way. You can stop me if I bore you.... Doctor Hilary says, in the hearing
of a housemaid, that it might be a good plan to consult a specialist. It
is announced in the village that the Squire is going to consult a
specialist. Doctor Hilary travels up to town with an empty litter. The
village announces that he has taken the Squire to the specialist. He
returns alone. The station-master asks him when the Squire will return
from London. He is briefly told, never. The village announces the
Squire's demise. I don't say that certain little further incidents did
not lend colour to the idea, such as the Squire confining himself
entirely to two rooms, and allowing the butler alone of the servants to
see him; Doctor Hilary's dismissal of the other indoor servants on his
return to town; the deserted appearance of the house. But from first to
last there was less actual direct lying in the matter, than in--shall I
say, than in a simple sneeze."

A third time the colour mounted in Trix's cheeks.

"You'll not let me forget _that_," she said pathetically. "But why ever
did you want everyone to think you were dead?"

Nicholas looked towards the window thoughtfully, ruminatively.

"That, my dear young lady, is my own affair."

"I beg your pardon," said Trix quickly. She lapsed into silence. Suddenly
she looked up, an elfin smile of pure mischief dancing in her eyes. "And
now I know you're not dead," she remarked. "Exactly," said Nicholas. "You
know I'm not dead."

"Well?" demanded Trix.

"Well, of course you can go and publish the news to the world,"