hung two small portraits, evidently his parents, for the gentleman
with stars and crosses on his braided uniform, a sword at his side,
and a plumed hat in his hand, bore a striking resemblance to Mr.
Jelnik; and the stately blond lady had a family resemblance to
Doctor Richard Geddes.

Mr. Jelnik touched a bell near the door, and a tall, copper-colored
man in spotless white appeared. At the merest gesture of an uplifted
finger the copper-colored one bowed, vanished, and returned ten
minutes later with a tiny cup of black coffee and a couple of thin
wafers.

"I shall have to insist upon the coffee; and I advise the wafers,"
said Mr. Jelnik, pleasantly. So I drank the coffee, nibbled the
wafers, and felt better.

The copper-colored man, standing still as a statue, waited until I
had finished, took the cup, bowed, and disappeared. He was a stately
impressive person, rather like a shah in disguise. Mr. Jelnik
addressed him as "Daoud."

I had risen. I was trying to straighten my sadly flattened brown
hat, and to smooth my frock, stained with damp earth, and water. A
quick step sounded on the porch, somebody knocked, and without
waiting for an answer, opened the door, impatiently, and strode into
the room. With a fold of my disheveled frock in my hand, I looked up
and met the angry and astonished eyes of The Author.

CHAPTER XII

MAN PROPOSES

The Author closed the door and leaned against it. His piercing
glance jumped from Nicholas Jelnik's face to mine, with a prolonged
and savage scrutiny. No detail of my appearance escaped him--my
reddened eyelids, my pallor, my nervousness, my dishevelment. His
eyes narrowed, his jaw hardened.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, roughly. "Come! At least one
may hope for the truth from _you_!"

Mr. Jelnik gave him a level look. There was that in it which brought
an angry red to The Author's thin face.

"Let me answer for her: just at present Miss Smith is getting ready
to go home."

The Author struggled to keep his rising temper in hand.

"I asked you a plain question, Miss Smith!" His peremptory tone
jangled my strained nerves.

"Mr. Jelnik has answered you: I am getting ready to go home."

The Author stamped.

"Don't talk nonsense! Again I ask you, what are you doing here? Have
you lost your senses? Why have you been weeping? It is plain that
you have been weeping. Miss Smith, why do I find you here--alone?"

"I do not like your manner of questioning