They came down the narrow board walk together, Percival carefully holding the lady’s arm to prevent her tripping over the loosened planks, but neither exchanging a word. The man was smiling, the fingers of one hand toying with the curl of his moustache, but Natalie appeared somewhat sobered by her visit, and West noticed that she had tied a light veil over her face, which slightly shadowed her features. It was only as they reached the curb that she spoke, her voice rather low and listless.

“Would you mind driving the car back?” she asked Coolidge. “Really I feel quite unnerved.”

“No wonder,” he returned sympathetically, “I have never witnessed a sadder case; the conditions were even worse than I imagined. I should never have brought you with me, my dear.”

“Oh, I am not sorry I came; but it has been a lesson to me. I do not think before I ever realized what such poverty meant.”

The words trembled from her lips, and were spoken slowly as though chosen with care. “The sad plight of the children particularly appealed to me.”

“There are children then?” West questioned, as Coolidge assisted her into the car. The latter cast a swift glance of inquiry into the younger man’s face.

“Children!” he exclaimed, “Of course; we spoke of them on the way down.”

“I know; that was what made me wonder when one of the lads playing out here in the street said there were no kids in the cottage.”

“Oh, I see,” a bit sarcastically. “So you have been amusing yourself questioning the neighbours, have you?”

“To a very small extent,” West confessed, keeping his temper. “One of the players chased a stray ball under the automobile, and I asked him a question or two. The cottage appeared so deserted, and you were absent for such a length of time, I became somewhat curious.”

“And what did he tell you?”

“Only that the occupants had moved in within a few days, and that he had seen no kids about; no one in fact but a middling old woman.”

“Did he mention any names?”

“No; I didn’t ask. It was nothing to me.”

“I should say it was not. So the kid told you there were no children, did he? Well, you heard what Natalie said just now which are you going to believe?”

“The lady, of course,” smilingly. “Surely this is no matter to quarrel over.”

“No, Captain West,” she broke in, leaning forward in the seat, and speaking again in the peculiar strained voice. “The boy was merely mistaken. He had not seen the children because they were kept closely in the house. They were turned out of their former home, and have absolutely nothing; no furniture even; only straw to sleep on. It was most pitiful.”

“Do not think of it any longer, Natalie,” Coolidge insisted rather gruffly. “They are all right now. I shall telephone for a doctor as soon as we get back, and attend to the rent the first thing tomorrow.”

“I know, Uncle, but I cannot forget so easily. Do you know anything about poverty, Captain West?”

“Nothing very direct. Of course, in a way I have occasionally come in contact with suffering of that nature. I have been hungry enough in the army, but usually I have experienced little need. I regret,” he added apologetically, “that what I said was taken as criticism. I had no such meaning.”

“Criticism!” Coolidge turned the car around as he spoke. “Be as free with that as you please; what I object to is your intruding at every opportunity. It looks as though you were trying to find out something is that your game?”

“Not at all. I naturally spoke to the kid, and the only topic which occurred to me at the moment concerned the people you were visiting. I see no occasion for any misunderstanding.”

“And there is none,” she asserted cordially, her eyes meeting his own frankly. “So let’s drop the subject, and enjoy our ride. I am not going to have the whole day spoiled because of these people. They are all right now. What is that big building over there?”

Coolidge emitted some answer, but devoted his attention to running the car, his jaw set. It was clear enough that West’s explanation was not altogether satisfactory, and his dislike for the younger man had in no way lessened. The young woman, however, easily regained her vivacity, and devoted herself to making the ride homeward as pleasant as possible. West found her unusually entertaining, with a deep sense of humor he had not before suspected, and an occasional lapse into slang which rather surprised him. He had previously entertained the thought that she was rather conventional and not particularly easy to approach, but this conception vanished quickly in a free flow of conversation, to which Coolidge apparently paid small attention. Indeed, there were moments when her extreme frankness of speech rather surprised West, even her voice striking strangely upon his ears, but the happy laugh, and swift glance of the eyes reassured him. No doubt she was playing a part for the benefit of Percival Coolidge in which he must co-operate. Later all would be explained, and made clear. This belief encouraged him to keep up his end of the conversation, ignoring Coolidge entirely, and devoting his attention exclusively to her.

The returning ride seemed very brief, and, almost before West realized it, the car whirled in through the Coolidge gate, and came to a stop at the door. Coolidge by this time had recovered from his spell of ill-nature, or else chose to so appear, and the party separated pleasantly. Natalie disappeared somewhere within, while the two men strolled out to the tennis court where the guests were enjoying a spirited game. All met again at lunch, and then separated, some to motor over to the lake, the others amusing themselves as they saw fit. Both Coolidge and Natalie vanished, while West, finding himself alone, chose a book from the library, and, solaced by a cigar, sought a shady nook on the porch.

The book, however, was but a mark for his thoughts, which continually revolved about the strange surroundings in which he found himself. He was apparently making no progress, was no nearer a solution of the mystery confronting him. Thus far, at least, no direct clue had presented itself. Numerous things had occurred to strengthen suspicion, and to increase interest in the quest. But beyond this nothing. He liked the girl and was completely enlisted in her service. He disliked Percival, and was convinced the fellow was planning evil. Several incidents had already strengthened this belief; yet there was nothing positive upon which to build; no path of adventure for him to follow. To speculate was easy enough, but real facts eluded him.

Yet, in spite of this feeling of failure, West’s reflections centred more upon the young woman than upon the particular problem which he had to solve. The ride back from the city had revealed a phase of her character he had never observed before she had shown herself vivacious, light of speech, a bit slangy and audacious. He was not altogether sure that this new revealment quite pleased him, and yet it possessed a certain charm. He had before learned to think of her as rather quiet and reserved, and now must change his whole conception. It was difficult to adjust his mind at once to the different standard. He found himself wondering why she had afforded him glimpses of her nature so strangely unlike. What could have occurred within the cottage to thus make so suddenly manifest this new side to her character? The change in her only served to increase the mystery, and, he confessed, his admiration also. Her very freedom evidenced to his mind that he was really accepted, had been taken into a new intimacy; no longer to be held and treated as an interloper, a stranger employed for a purpose. She had deliberately cast aside the conventional, and become natural in his presence free to speak and act as the spirit moved. This was a victory, and he chose to interpret it as proof that she already really liked and trusted him. Actuated by this feeling, she no longer deemed it necessary to dissemble in his presence. It was a long step in advance.

He had arrived at this very pleasant conclusion, when Sexton appeared in the door, evidently looking for some one. The man espied him there in the shadow of the vines, and came forward.

“Miss Coolidge requests your presence, sir, for a few moments,” he said gravely.

“Why, certainly; did she say where, Sexton?”

“In the library, sir; she is waiting there now.”

West hesitated an instant. There was a question he was eager to ask, but immediately thought better of it. Interviewing servants was not in his line, and there were other ways of learning the truth.

“Very well,” he said quietly. “I will join her at once. Thank you, Sexton,” and disappeared into the cool, darkened hall.