ainest of dwellings, painted by wind and weather
to a dovelike silver-gray. Here lived Uncle Sim, cared for in the
domestic sense by a lady somewhat older and more eccentric than himself,
known to the younger Mastermans as Cousin Amy Dawes.

Thor avoided the house and Cousin Amy Dawes, going directly to the
stable. By the time he had reached the door Uncle Sim was shutting it.
In the light of a lantern standing in the snow the naked elms round
about loomed weirdly. The greetings were brief.

"Hello, Uncle Sim!"

"Hello, Thor!"

Thor made an effort to reduce the emotional tremor of his voice to the
required minimum. "Father's been telling me about Claude and Rosie Fay."

Uncle Sim turned the key in the lock with a loud grating. "Father had to
do it, did he? Thought you might have caught on to that by yourself. One
of the reasons I sent you into the Fay family."

"Did you know it then?--already?"

"Didn't _know_ it. Couldn't help putting two and two together."

"You see everything, Uncle Sim."

Uncle Sim stooped to pick up the lantern. "See everything that's under
my nose. Thought you could, too."

"This hasn't been under my nose."

"Oh, well! There are noses and noses. A donkey has one kind and a dog
has another."

Thor was not a finished actor, but he was doing his best to play a part.
"Well, what do you think now?"

"What do I think now? I don't think anything--about other people's
business."

"I think we ought to do something," Thor declared, with energy.

"All right. Every one to his mind. Only it's great fun to let other
people settle their own affairs."

"Settle their own affairs--and suffer."

"Yes, and suffer. Suffering doesn't hurt any one."

"Do you mean to say, Uncle Sim, that I should sit still and do nothing
while the people I care for most in the world are in all sorts of
trouble that I could get them out of?"

"That little baggage, Rosie Fay, isn't one of the people you care for
most in the world, I presume?"

Thor knew that with Uncle Sim's perspicacity this might be a leading
question, but he made the answer he considered the most diplomatic in
the circumstances. "She is if--if Claude is in love with her. But--but
why do you call her that, Uncle Sim?"

"Because she's a little witch. Most determined little piece I know. Hard
working; lots of pluck; industrious as the devil. Whole soul set on
attaining her ends."

Thor considered it prudent to return to the point from which he