white collar and black tie, and generally proved herself an efficient
valet.

She ventured to ask a question when Mr. Dale was about to leave the
kitchen.

"Any news, sir?"

"News!" Mr. Dale echoed the word sternly. "What news should there
be--anyway, what news that concerns _you_?

"I beg pardon, sir." Buxom, red-cheeked Mary lowered her eyes, and by
voice and attitude expressed the confusion proper to a subordinate who
has taken a liberty in addressing a superior. "I'm sorry, sir. But I
on'y ast."

"All right," said Dale, less sternly. "You just attend to your own
job, my girl."

He went down into the office, and did not come up again until an hour
and a half later, when breakfast was ready and waiting. He stood near
the window for a few moments, meditatively looking about him. The
sunlight made the metal cover of the hot dish shine like beautifully
polished silver; it flashed on the rims of white teacups, and, playing
some prismatic trick with the glass sugar basin, sent a stream of
rainbow tints across the two rolls and the two boiled eggs. An
appetizing meal--and as comfortable, yes, as luxurious a room as any
one could ask for. Through the open door and across the landing, he
had a peep into the other room. In that room there were books, a
piano, a sofa, hand-painted pictures in gold frames--the things that