the door.

She fled to the end of the upper hall, near a door that was closed.
Garrison had lost no space behind her. She turned a white, tense face
as she came to a halt.

"Be careful, please," she whispered. "Some of my relatives appeared
here unexpectedly this afternoon. I had to wire on that account. Get
away just as soon as you can. You are merely passing through the city.
You must write me daily letters while they are here--and--don't forget
who you are supposed to be!"

She was radiant again with blushes. Garrison was almost dazzled by her
beauty. What reply he might have made was interrupted. Dorothy caught
him by the hand, like a fond young bride, as her uncle came rapidly up
the stairs. The door was opened at his elbow by a white-haired, almost
"bearded" woman, large, sharp-sighted, and ugly, with many signs of
both inquisitiveness and acquisitiveness upon her.

"So, that's your Mr. Fairfax," she said to Dorothy. "Come in here till
I see what you're like."

Dorothy had again taken Garrison's arm. She led him forward.

"This is Aunt Jill," she said, by way of introduction and explanation.
"Aunty, this is my husband, Jerold."

Aunt Jill had backed away from the door to let them enter. Garrison
realized at once that Dorothy's marriage had excited much antagonism in
the breasts of both these relatives. A sudden accession of boldness
came upon him, in his plan to protect the girl. He entered the room
and faced the woman calmly.

"I'm glad to meet you," he said, this time without extending his hand.
"I beg to impress upon both you and Mr. Robinson that, such as I am,
Dorothy chose me of her own free will to occupy my present position."

Mrs. Robinson was momentarily speechless. Her husband now stood in the
door.

Dorothy shot Garrison a look of gratitude, but her immediate desire was
for peace.

"Let us all sit down, and try to get better acquainted," she said.
"I'm sure we shall all be friends."

"No doubt," said her uncle somewhat offensively.

Garrison felt himself decidedly uncertain of his ground. There was
nothing to do, however, but await developments. He looked about the
room in a quick, comprehensive manner.

It was a large apartment, furnished handsomely, perhaps even richly,
but in a style no longer modern, save for the installation of electric
lights. It contained a piano, a fireplace, a cabinet, writing-desk,
two settees, and the customary complement of chairs.

The