"I'm--I'm sure I beg your pardon, ladies," he stammered. "I scarcely
know what to say to you. I--"

His eyes becoming accustomed to the light in the sitting room, he was
now able to see his captors more clearly. He looked at Keziah, then at
Miss Van Horne, and another wave of blushes passed from his collar up
into the roots of his hair. Grace blushed, too, though, as she perfectly
well knew, there was no reason why she should.

Mrs. Coffin did not blush. This young fellow, although evidently not a
tramp or a burglar, had caused her some moments of distinct uneasiness,
and she resented the fact.

"Well," she observed rather tartly, "I'm sorry you don't know what to
say, but perhaps you might begin by telling us who you are and what you
mean by makin' a--er--dressin' room of a house that don't belong to
you, just because you happened to find the door unlocked. After that
you might explain why you didn't speak up when we first come, instead
of keepin' so mighty quiet. That looks kind of suspicious to me, I must
say."

The stranger's answer was prompt enough now. It was evident he resented
the suspicion.

"I didn't speak," he said, "because you took me by surprise and I
wasn't, as I explained--er--presentable. Besides, I was afraid of
frightening you. I assure you I hurried as fast as I could, quietly, and
when you began to talk"--his expression changed and there was a twitch
at the corner of his mouth--"I tried to hurry still faster, hoping you
might not hear me and I could make my appearance--or my escape--sooner.