Without ceremony, without invitation, she sat herself down on a chair. More by her voice than her features--for she kept her veil before her face--did Austin recognise her. It was Miss Gwinn. He recognised her with dismay. Mr. Henry Hunter was about the premises, liable to come in at any moment, and then might occur a repetition of that violent scene to which he had been a witness. Often and often had his mind recurred to the affair; it perplexed him beyond measure. Was Mr. Henry Hunter the stranger to her he asserted himself to be, or was he not? 'What shall I do with her?' thought Austin. 'Will you shut the door?' she said, in a peremptory, short tone, for the boy had left it open. 'I beg your pardon, Miss Gwinn,' interrupted Austin, necessity giving him courage. 'Though glad to see you myself, I am at the present hour so busy that it is next to impossible for me to give you my attention. If you will name any place where I can wait upon you after business hours, this, or any other evening, I shall be happy to meet you.' Miss Gwinn ranged her eyes round the room, looking possibly, for confirmation of his words. 'You are not so busy as to be unable to spare a minute to me. You were but looking over a plan.' 'It is a plan that is being waited for.' Which was true. 'And you must forgive me for reminding you--I do it in all courtesy--that my time and this room do not belong to me, but to my employers.' 'Boy! what is your motive for seeking to get rid of me?' she asked, abruptly. 'That you have one, I can see.' Austin was upon thorns. He had not taken a seat. He stood near the door, pencil in hand, hoping it would induce her to move. At that moment footsteps were heard, and the office-door was pushed wide open. It was Mr. Hunter. He stopped on the threshold, seeing a lady, an unusual sight there, and came to the conclusion that it must be some stranger for Mr. Clay. Her features, shaded by the thick white veil, were indistinct, and Mr. Hunter but glanced at her. Miss Gwinn on the contrary looked full at him, as she did at most people, and bent her head as a slight mark of courtesy. He responded by lifting his hat, and went out again. 'One of the principals, I suppose?' she remarked. 'Yes,' he replied, feeling thankful that it was not Mr. Henry. 'I believe he wants me, Miss Gwinn.' 'I am not going to keep you from him. The question I wish to put to you will be answered in a sentence. Austin Clay, have you, since----' 'Allow me one single instant first, then,' interrupted Austin, resigning himself to his fate, 'just to speak a word of explanation to Mr. Hunter.' He stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. Standing at the outer door, close by, open to the yard, was Mr. Hunter. Austin, in his haste and earnestness, grasped his arm. 'Find Mr. Henry, sir,' he whispered. 'Wherever he may be, let him keep there--out of sight--until she--this person--has gone. It is Miss Gwinn.'