egan to think
I had invaded a colony of imbeciles--or owls; their conversation seemed
limited to "oos."

"W'at do you want to see--to see Morley for?" demanded the red-faced
female.

"On business. Is Mrs. Briggs in?"

"I'm Mrs. Briggs."

"Good! I'm glad of that. Now will you tell me if Mr. Morley is in?"

"There ain't no Mr. Morley. There's a--"

She was interrupted. From the hall, apparently from the top of the
flight of stairs, another was heard, a feminine voice like the others,
but unlike them--decidedly unlike.

"Who is it, Mrs. Briggs?" said this voice. "Does the gentleman wish to
see me?"

"No, 'e don't," declared Mrs. Briggs, with emphasis. "'E wants to see
Mister Morley and I'm telling 'im there ain't none such."

"But are you sure he doesn't mean Miss Morley? Ask him, please."

Before the Briggs woman could reply I spoke again.

"I want to see a Francis Morley," I repeated, loudly. "I have come here
in answer to a letter. The letter gave this as his address. If he isn't
here, will you be good enough to tell me where he is? I--"

There was another interruption, an exclamation from the darkness behind
Mrs. Briggs and the maid.

"Oh!" said the third voice, with a little catch in it. "Who is it,
please? Who is it? What is the person's name?"

Mrs. Briggs scowled at me.

"Wat's your name?" she snapped.

"My name is Knowles. I am an American relative of Mr. Morley's and I'm
here in answer to a letter written by Mr. Morley himself."

There was a moment's silence. Then the third voice said:

"Ask--ask him to come up. Show him up, Mrs. Briggs, if you please."

Mrs. Briggs grunted and stepped aside. I entered the hall.

"First floor back," mumbled the landlady. "Straight as you go. You won't
need any showin'."

I mounted the stairs. The landing at the top was dark, but the door
at the rear was ajar. I knocked. A voice, the same voice I had heard
before, bade me come in. I entered the room.

It was a dingy little room, sparely furnished, with a bed and two
chairs, a dilapidated washstand and a battered bureau. I noticed these
afterwards. Just then my attention was centered upon the occupant of the
room, a young woman, scarcely more than a girl, dark-haired, dark-eyed,
slender and graceful. She was standing by the bureau, resting one hand
upon it, and gazing at me, with a strange expression, a curious compound
of fright, surprise and defiance. She did not speak. I was embarrassed.

"I beg you