“He may be useful,” said Piper. “He is to take lodgings at Pitstow next week. Now that affair is settled for the present. How soon can you start for Spain?” “When must I go?” “If you have arrangements to make at home we can give you until Monday to make your plans.” “Thanks,” said Rowton. He rose as he spoke. “You will come here again on Monday night?” “I will.” “Then come with me now into this inner room. I have something to say with regard to your duties as landlord and country gentleman.” A queer expression crept over Rowton’s face; the healthy colour went out of it; it grew grey and deathlike in hue. He followed his strange host without a word. CHAPTER XIV. THE BUTLER’S PANTRY. Nancy spent an almost sleepless night, and awoke the next day with a headache. She got up earlier than usual, and went downstairs. Murray was waiting for her in the hall—as usual, the boarhound, Roy, accompanied him. “Roy wants to make friends with you, auntie,” said the child. “Come, Roy, come forward, do allegiance.” The dog turned his eyes on the bright childish face, then he walked straight up to Nancy, lay down at full length at her feet, and tried to lick her shoe with his tongue. “There, you belong to us now,” said Murray, delighted. “Is not Roy wonderful? I whispered all that to him this morning. He seems to understand almost as if he were a person. It is so nice to think that there are three of us all of one mind—you, and Roy, and I. I know I shall be awfully happy at Rowton Heights in the future.” “Come to breakfast now, Murray,” said Nancy, holding out her hand. He clasped it in his and danced into the breakfast room by her side. “This is Sunday,” he said presently, giving her a glance, as bold and direct as Rowton’s own. “Yes,” replied Mrs. Rowton. “Sunday means church. Are you going to church?” asked the child. Nancy remembered Rowton’s wish on that subject. “I don’t want to,” she said, “for my head aches; but all the same I shall go.” “That is awfully brave of you,” replied Murray. “I am delighted, for I always have to go, and I have to sit in that dull old square pew by myself. I hope, auntie, now that you have come to Rowton Heights, you will get the Rowton pew altered, and made like everybody else’s. It is so dull not to see the congregation.” “Is the pew so high as all that?” asked Nance. “Yes; if you sit down—I mean if you happen to be a child—you are quite lost to the congregation. Perhaps _you_ will be seen, and perhaps you will see, for you are tall. I like tall girls. I shall marry a very tall girl when I grow up.” Nancy could not help smiling. The boy’s chatter, the gaiety of his sweet, high laugh, the look in his eyes, ever and always reminding her of Adrian, gave her more pleasure than she knew.