hand, a
meditative, half whimsical expression on his face, as if he found both
wonder and amusement in the chance that had so strangely brought these
young people across his threshold.

One Sunday afternoon the Pennington motor, having deposited Margaret
Elizabeth at the Vandegrift gate, with a scornful snort went on its
swift way to more select regions. It was the first really cold weather
of the season, and while she waited at the door Margaret Elizabeth
examined the thermometer, and then buried her nose in her muff.
"Dear me!" she exclaimed impatiently. "Why doesn't somebody come?"

She rang again with no uncertain touch upon the button this time, and
then, crunching across the frozen grass, peeped in at her own window,
where a glimpse of smouldering fire rewarded her. She returned to the
door to ring and rap, still with no response.

This was a most unusual state of affairs, for it was an inexorable
decree of Dr. Prue's that the telephone must never be left alone.
Somebody must have gone to sleep. The cold and the darkness deepened and
it became more and more evident that she was locked out. What should
she do? After canvassing the situation thoroughly, she could think of
nothing for it but to seek refuge with the Miser. Her acquaintance in
the neighbourhood was limited. Miss Kitty the dressmaker had gone to
vespers, and her cottage was dark. The apartment house was too far away.
From the Miser's library she could watch for the light which would
betoken the waking up of the delinquent one. So across the street, her
nose in her muff, ran Margaret Elizabeth.

The little housekeeper, Mrs. Sampson, who opened the door, was all
solicitude. Such a cold evening to be locked out! She knew Mr. Knight
would be glad to have her wait in the library. He had stepped out for
a little walk, though she had warned him it was too cold. Thus saying,
Mrs. Sampson ushered her in, and followed to see if the fire was all it
should be.

It was, for the Candy Man had just given it a vigorous poking and put on
fresh coal. The room was full of its pleasant light.

Mrs. Sampson was surprised to find him there. "Miss Bentley, this is
Mr. Reynolds, a friend of Mr. Knight's," she explained, adding that Miss
Bentley was locked out, and wished to sit by the window and watch for
her uncle to come back. "And if you'll excuse me, Miss Bentley, the cook
has her Sunday evenings out, and I get supper myself," she added as she
withdrew.

Margaret