r."

"She can't have been gone very long then."

"About five minutes, sir."

"Go up and tell her to come down," said Crane.

He turned again to Miss Falkener and went on about the past performances
of the Irish mare, but it was quite clear to all who heard him that his
heart was no longer in the topic.

Smithfield's return was greeted by complete silence.

"Well?" said Crane sharply.

"Beg pardon, sir," said Smithfield, "Jane-Ellen says that she is very
tired, and that if the morning will do--"

"The morning will not do," answered Crane, with a promptness unusual in
him. "Go up and tell her that if she is not in my office within ten
minutes, I'll come up myself."

Smithfield bowed and withdrew.

Silence again descended on the room. Mrs. Falkener and Tucker were
silent because they both felt that thus their faces expressed more
plainly than words could do that this was just about what they had
expected. But Cora, who was young enough to understand that anger may be
a form of interest, watched him with a strangely wistful expression.

After what seemed to every one an interminable delay, Smithfield entered
again. He looked pale and graver than any one had ever seen his
habitually grave countenance.

"Jane-Ellen is in your office now, sir," he said.

Crane rose at once and left the room followed by Smithfield.

V

JANE-ELLEN was standing in the office, with her hands folded, and an
expression of the utmost calm upon her face. Crane came in quickly and
would have shut the door, but for the fact that Smithfield was
immediately behind him.

"Beg pardon, sir," he said firmly, sliding into the room, "but I must
look to the fire."

Crane frowned.

"The fire's all right," he said shortly.

But Smithfield was not to be put off his duties, and began to poke the
logs and sweep the hearth until peremptorily ordered to go.

When the door finally closed behind him, Crane stood silent a moment
with his hand on the mantelpiece. The whole tone of the interview, upon
which it now occurred to him he had rushed somewhat too hastily, would
be decided by whether he spoke standing up or sitting down. His feelings
were for the first, his intellect for the latter position.

His intellect won. He sat down in a deep chair and crossed his legs. As
he did so, the cook's eyes, which had hitherto been fixed on the
carpet, now raised themselves to the level of his neat pumps and black