al rooms of that
topmost story--servants' quarters, comfortably furnished, but
tenantless.

Then step by timid step she descended to the next floor, which she
found devoted to three handsomely appointed bedchambers, also empty.
And slowly, as her courage served, another flight took her down to a
story given over wholly to two bedchambers with baths, dressing-rooms
and boudoirs adjoining, all very luxurious to a hasty survey.

Below this again was an entrance hall, giving access to a
drawing-room, a library, and, at the back of the house, a dining-room,
each apartment in its way deepening the impression of a home toward
whose making wealth and good taste had worked in rarely harmonious
collaboration.

And finally the basement proved to be as deserted as any room above;
this though the kitchen clock still ticked on stertorously, though the
fire in the range had been banked rather than drawn, though one had
but to touch the boiler to learn it still held water piping-hot.

It required, however, only a moment's sober thought, once satisfied
she was alone, to suggest as one reasonable solution to the puzzle
that the owners had fled town for the week-end, leaving the
establishment in care of untrustworthy servants, who had promptly
elected to seek their own pleasure elsewhere.

Content with this theory, Sally chose one of the windows of the
servants' dining-room from which to spy out stealthily, between the
shade and the sill, over a flooded area and street; first remarking a
sensible modification of the gloom in spite of an unabated downpour,
then that the house was near the Park Avenue corner, finally a
policeman sheltered in the tradesman's entrance of the dwelling
across the way.

At this last disquieting discovery Sally retreated expeditiously from
the window, for the first time realising that her presence in that
house, however adventitious and innocent, wouldn't be easy to explain
to one of a policeman's incredulous idiosyncrasy; the legal definition
of burglar, strictly applied, fitted Sarah Manvers with disconcerting
neatness.

But nobody knew; it was only half past six by the clock in the
kitchen; it was reasonably improbable that the faithless servants
would come back much before midnight; and she need only wait for the
storm to pass to return across the roofs, or, for that matter, to
leave circumspectly by the front door. For it would certainly be dark
by the time the storm uttered its last surly growl an