was Miss Black. She stood on the mica slab that formed the
step and looked up at him as he swung the door open. She had a small
leather bag in her hand, just as the Captain had said she would
have, but it flashed across Mr. Hazeltine's mind that the rest of
the description was not a fair one; she was certainly much more than
"middlin' good-lookin'!"

"Is Captain Hedge in?" she asked.

Now, from his friend's hints, Ralph had expected to hear a rather sharp
and unpleasant voice,--certain disagreeable remembrances of former
encounters with female book agents had helped to form the impression
perhaps,--but Miss Black's voice was mellow, quiet, and rather pleasing
than otherwise.

"No," said Mr. Hazeltine, obeying orders with exactitude. "Captain Hedge
is out just now."

"'Gusty"--somehow the name didn't seem to fit--was manifestly
disappointed.

"Oh, dear!" she said, and then added, "Will he be back soon?"

Now this was a question unprovided for. Ralph stammered, and then
miserably equivocated. He really couldn't say just when the Captain
would return.

"Oh, dear!" said the young lady again. Then she seemed to be waiting for
some further observation on the part of the gentleman at the door. None
being forthcoming, she seemed to make up her mind to act on her own
initiative.

"I think I will come in and wait," she said with decision. And come
in she did, Mr. Hazeltine not knowing exactly what to do, under the
circumstances.

Now this was much more in keeping with the electrician's preconceived
ideas of a book agent's behavior; nevertheless, when he turned and found
the young lady standing in the middle of the floor, he felt obliged to
be at least decently polite.

"Won't you take a chair?" he asked.

"Thank you," said the caller, and took one.

The situation was extremely awkward, but Ralph felt that loyalty
to Captain Eri forbade his doing anything that might urge the
self-possessed Miss Black to prolong her visit, so for a time he said
nothing. The young lady looked out of the window and Mr. Hazeltine
looked at her. He was more than ever of the opinion that the "middlin'"
term should be cut out of her description. He rather liked her
appearance, so he decided. He liked the way she wore her hair; so simple
an arrangement, but so effective. Also he liked her dress. It was the
first tailor-made walking suit he had seen since his arrival in Orham.
And worn by a country book agent, of all people.

Just then