CHAPTER VII

THE RED BAIZE DOOR

It ended in my deciding to stop on at the inn, while Terry Burns went
into lodgings. I felt that he was right. I _had_ to stand by!

It wasn't only the romance of Terry falling out of love with his
Princess, and in love with a face, which held me. There was more in the
affair than that. The impression I had received when the old servant
first opened the door of Dun Moat came back to me sharply--and indeed it
had never gone--an impression that there was something _wrong_ in the
house.

I didn't for a moment believe that Terry had "seen a ghost," or had an
optical illusion. He'd distinctly beheld a girl at the window--evidently
the same window from which the Scarlett boy had looked at me. Though he
had seen her for a moment only, by questioning I got quite an accurate
description of her appearance: large dark eyes in a delicate oval face;
full red lips, the upper one very short; a cleft chin; a slender little
aquiline nose, and auburn hair parted Madonna fashion on a broad
forehead. She had worn a black dress, Terry thought, cut rather low at
the throat. In order to look out, she had held back the gray curtain;
and recalling the picture she made, it seemed to him that she had a
frightened air. His eyes had met hers, and she had bent forward, as if
she wished to speak. He had paused, but as he did so the girl started,
and drew hastily back. It was then that Terry ran toward the door,
thinking a rejuvenated, rebeautified Margaret Revell was making a tour
of exploration without him.

Now that he was out of love with the Princess Avalesco, there was no
longer a pressing reason to keep me in the background. For all he cared,
she might misunderstand the situation as much as she confoundedly
pleased! It was decided, therefore, that I should promptly call. I would
be nice to her, and try to get myself invited often to Dun Moat. I would
wander in the garden, where I must be seen by the Scarletts; and as
their presence in the "suite of the garden court" was no secret from me,
it seemed that there would be no indiscretion in my visiting Lady
Scarlett. Once in that wing, it would go hard if I didn't get a peep at
all its occupants!

I knew that the Scarletts kept up communication with the outer world, so
far as obtaining food was concerned, through the old German woman, whose
name was Hedwig Kramm. She lived in the main part of the house, and was
ostensibly in the service of the tenant, but m