ing the last of the furniture in. Are
you Miss Drewitt?"
"Yes," said the girl. "If you'll kindly give me the key, I can go in and
wait for him."
Mr. Tredgold took it from a drawer. "If you will allow me, I will go
down with you," he said, slowly; "the lock is rather awkward for anybody
who doesn't understand it."
The girl murmured something about not troubling him.
"It's no trouble," said Mr. Tredgold, taking up his hat. "It is our duty
to do all we can for the comfort of our tenants. That lock--"
He held the door open and followed her into the street, pointing out
various objects of interest as they went along.
"I'm afraid you'll find Binchester very quiet," he remarked.
"I like quiet," said his companion.
Mr. Tredgold glanced at her shrewdly, and, pausing only at the jubilee
horse-trough to point out beauties which might easily escape any but a
trained observation, walked on in silence until they reached their
destination.
Except in the matter of window-blinds, Dialstone Lane had not changed for
generations, and Mr. Tredgold noted with pleasure the interest of his
companion as she gazed at the crumbling roofs, the red-brick doorsteps,
and the tiny lattice windows of the cottages. At the last house, a
cottage larger than the rest, one side of which bordered the old
churchyard, Mr. Tredgold paused and, inserting his key in the lock,
turned it with thoughtless ease.
"The lock seems all right; I need not have bothered you," said Miss
Drewitt, regarding him gravely.
"Ah, it seems easy," said Mr. Tredgold, shaking his head, "but it wants
knack."
The girl closed the door smartly, and, turning the key, opened it again
without any difficulty. To satisfy herself--on more points than one--she
repeated the performance.
"You've got the knack," said Mr. Tredgold, meeting her gaze with great
calmness. "It's extraordinary what a lot of character there is in locks;
they let some people open them without any trouble, while others may
fumble at them till they're tired."
The girl pushed the door open and stood just inside the room.
"Thank you," she said, and gave him a little bow of dismissal.
A vein of obstinacy in Mr. Tredgold's disposition, which its owner
mistook for firmness, asserted itself. It was plain that the girl had
estimated his services at their true value and was quite willing to
apprise him of the fact. He tried the lock again, and with more
bitterness than the occasion seeme
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