I stared at him for a moment and then looked down at the charge
in my arms. A corner of the rug had fallen over her face.
Thomas, naturally enough, thought it was Jill.

"Er- yes," said I. "She's tired, you know. And you'd better
not let her see you. She'll be awfully angry to think you got up
for us. You know what she said."

Thomas laughed respectfully. I passed up the stairs, and he
followed. "I'll only open the door and see that the fire's all
right, sir," he said. I placed my burden gently on the sofa,
away from the light of the fire.

"You'll let me light the candles, sir?"

"Not a farthing dip, Thomas. Miss Mansel may wake any moment.
You can come and open the coach-house door, if you like."

"Very good, sir."

"You can get to it from the inside, can't you? Because you're
not to go out of doors."

"Oh, yes, thank you, sir."

Two minutes later the car was in the garage, and Thomas and I
were making our way back past the kitchens. Outside the Cromwell
room I stopped.

"You may take Miss Mansel's dressing-case to her room and see to