ida was back promptly, her arms full of garments. With little
murmurs of explanation by way of accompaniment, she proceeded to invest
Desire in a motor coat and a dark-blue velvet hat rather like an
artist's tam-o'shanter. I noticed then that the girl wore a plain frock
of gray stuff, long of sleeve and skirt, fastened at the base of her
throat with severe intent to cover from sight all loveliness of tint and
contour. Nothing farther from the fashion of the day or the figure of my
cousin could be imagined.

"You must wear the coat because it is always cool motoring at night,"
Phillida was murmuring. "And of course you will want it at a hotel;
until you can do some shopping. I will just tie back your gorgeous,
scrumptious hair with this ribbon, now. I know I haven't enough hairpins
to put it up without wasting an awful lot of time, but we will buy them
in the morning. We are going to take the very best care of you every
minute, so you must not worry."

"You are so kind to me," Desire began tremulously. "No one was ever so
kind! It does not matter about me, or what people think of me, if he
will only go from here quickly."

"Right away," Phillida soothed. "My husband has gone for the car. I hear
him coming now!"

In fact, Vere was coming up the veranda steps. His hand was on the knob
of the outer door, fumbling with it in a manner not usual to him, then
the knob yielded and he was inside.

"But how slow you are, Drawls," his wife called, with an accent of
wonder.

Vere crossed the threshold of the room, his gaze seeking mine. He was
pale, and drops of fog moisture pearled his dark face like sweat.

"I am sorry, Mr. Locke," he addressed me, ignoring the others. "Perhaps
you felt that shake-up, a quarter-hour ago? Like a kind of earthquake,
or the kick from a big explosion a long ways off? It didn't seem very
strong to me. It was too strong for that old tree by the garage, though!
Must have been decayed clear through inside. Willows are like that,
tricky when they get old."

"Ethan, what _are_ you talking about?" cried Phillida, aghast.

He continued to look at me.

"I guess it must have fallen just about when you slammed your door
upstairs. Seems I do remember a sort of second crash following the noise
you made. I was too keen on finding out what was happening up there to
pay much heed."

"Well, Vere?"

"Tree smashed down through the roof of the garage," he reluctantly gave
his report. "Everything under the