"You can lock up the rest of the house and go to bed, Liddy," I said

severely. "You give me the creeps standing there. A woman of your age

ought to have better sense." It usually braces Liddy to mention her

age: she owns to forty--which is absurd. Her mother cooked for my

grandfather, and Liddy must be at least as old as I. But that night

she refused to brace.

"You're not going to ask me to lock up, Miss Rachel!" she quavered.

"Why, there's a dozen French windows in the drawing-room and the

billiard-room wing, and every one opens on a porch. And Mary Anne said

that last night there was a man standing by the stable when she locked

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the kitchen door."

"Mary Anne was a fool," I said sternly. "If there had been a man

there, she would have had him in the kitchen and been feeding him what

was left from dinner, inside of an hour, from force of habit. Now

don't be ridiculous. Lock up the house and go to bed. I am going to

read."

But Liddy set her lips tight and stood still.

"I'm not going to bed," she said. "I am going to pack up, and

to-morrow I am going to leave."

"You'll do nothing of the sort," I snapped. Liddy and I often desire

to part company, but never at the same time. "If you are afraid, I

will go with you, but for goodness' sake don't try to hide behind me."

The house was a typical summer residence on an extensive scale.

Wherever possible, on the first floor, the architect had done away with

partitions, using arches and columns instead. The effect was cool and

spacious, but scarcely cozy. As Liddy and I went from one window to

another, our voices echoed back at us uncomfortably. There was plenty

of light--the electric plant down in the village supplied us--but there

were long vistas of polished floor, and mirrors which reflected us from

unexpected corners, until I felt some of Liddy's foolishness

communicate itself to me.

The house was very long, a rectangle in general form, with the main

entrance in the center of the long side. The brick-paved entry opened

into a short hall to the right of which, separated only by a row of

pillars, was a huge living-room. Beyond that was the drawing-room, and

in the end, the billiard-room. Off the billiard-room, in the extreme

right wing, was a den, or card-room, with a small hall opening on the

east veranda, and from there went up a narrow circular staircase.

Halsey had pointed it out with delight.




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