fuss about. It made a great
stir at the time. But I don't expect that it will happen again."

"Why not?" Miss Lee asked. "When an attempt of that sort is made it is
usually followed by another, sometimes after the lapse of years. Anybody
getting through that window could easily get the frame from its two nails
and take out the paper."

"Do you think so?" Littimer asked, uneasily.

"I am certain of it. Take my advice and make it secure. The panels behind
are hard wood--thick black oak. Lord Littimer, I am going to get four
brass-headed stays and drive them through some of the open ornamental
work into the panel so as to make the picture quite secure. It is an iron
frame, I suppose."

"Wrought-iron, gilt," said Littimer. "Yes, one could easily drive four
brass-headed stays through the open work and make the thing safe. I'll
have it seen to."

But Miss Lee insisted that there was no time like the present. She had
discovered that Littimer had an excellent carpenter's shop on the
premises; indeed, she admitted to being no mean performer with the lathe
herself. She flitted down the stairs light as thistledown.

"A charming girl!" Littimer said, cynically. "I wonder why she came to
this dull hole? A quarrel with her young man, perhaps. If I were a young
man myself I might--But women are all the same. I should be a happier man
if I had never trusted one. If--"

The face darkened; a heavy scowl lined his brows as he paced up and
down. Christabel came back presently with hammer and some brass-headed
stays in her hand.

"Don't utterly destroy the frame," Littimer said, resignedly. "It is
reputed to be Quentin Matsy's work, and I had it cut to its present
fashion. I'll go to the end of the gallery till the execution's over."

"On the contrary," Miss Lee said, firmly, "you will stay where you
are told."

A little to his own surprise Littimer remained. He saw the nails driven
firmly in and finished off with a punch so that there might be no danger
of hammering the exquisitely wrought frame. Miss Lee stood regarding her
work with a suggestion of pride.

"There," she said, "I flatter myself a carpenter could have done
no better."

"You don't know our typical carpenter," Littimer said. "Here is Tredwell
with a telegram. For Miss Lee? I hope it isn't an intimation that some
relative has died and left you a fortune. At least, if it is, you mustn't
go until we've had one of those quarrels you promised me."

Christabel glan