ut years of neglect had made it unwholesome and cavern-like;
and finally it was given over to a tribe of stolid Lithuanians who
stuck a cheaply gilded Greek cross over the door and thronged the
street with their wedding and christening processions.

"Perhaps," said Ashton-Kirk, after a moment's study of the prospect,
"yes, perhaps it _is_ a hole of a place in which to live. But you see
we've had this house since shortly after the Revolution; four
generations have been born here. As I have no fashionable wife and I
live alone, I am content to stay. Then, the house suits me; everything
is arranged to my taste. The environment may not be the most
desirable; but, my visitors are seldom of the sort that object to
externals."

"Well, you have one just now who is not what you might call partial to
such neighborhoods," said Pendleton. "And," looking at his watch, "you
will shortly have another who will be, perhaps, still less favorably
impressed."

"Ah!" said Ashton-Kirk.

He curled himself up upon the deep window sill while Pendleton went
back to his chair and the tobacco.

"It's a lady," resumed Pendleton, the brown paper crackling between
his fingers, "a lady of condition, quality and beauty."

"It sounds pleasant enough," smiled the other. "But why is she
coming?"

"To consult you--ah--I suppose we might call it--professionally. No, I
don't know what it is about; but judging from her manner, it is
something of no little consequence."

"She sent you to prepare the way for her, then?"

"Yes. It is Miss Edyth Vale, daughter of James Vale, the 'Structural
Steel King,' you remember they used to call him before he died a few
years ago. She was an only child, and except for the four millions
which he left to found a technical school, she inherited everything.
And when you say everything in a case like this, it means
considerable."

Ashton-Kirk nodded.

"She is a distant relative of mine," resumed Pendleton; "her mother
was connected in some vague way with my mother; and because of this
indefinite link, we've always been"--here he hesitated for an
instant--"well, rather friendly. Last night we happened to meet at
Upton's, and I took her in to dinner. Edyth is a nice girl, but I've
noticed of late that she's not had a great deal to say. Sort of quiet
and big-eyed and all that, you know. Seems healthy enough, but does a
great deal of thinking and looking away at nothing. I've talked to her
for ten minutes straight, on