"Yes, sir; that's it. They've seen your card, and master said he didn't know you, and if you came again the family was not at home." "I have nothing to do with your master or his brother, my good fellow. My business is with Miss Clareborough, and I insist on seeing her." "Not at home," said the man, shortly; and he drew back to close the door. But firmly convinced that the lady he desired to see was a prisoner, Chester in his excitement stepped forward, and, to the man's astonishment, entered the hall. "Now," he said angrily, "no more of this insolence, sir; take or send my card in to Miss Clareborough." "I say, look here," cried the the butler, whose face grew ruddy and then white, "haven't I told you she isn't at home?" "Yes, more than once, my good fellow, and I tell you now that she is, and that I will not stir from here until I have seen her." "Then look here, sir," cried the butler; "I shall send for the police." "Do--at once," retorted Chester. The butler's jaw dropped in his astonishment, but he recovered himself, closed the door, and took a few steps further into the hall, Chester following. "Come, none of that," cried the man. "You'll stop there, and--" "What's the meaning of this, Mr Roach?" said a familiar voice, and Chester eagerly pressed forward. "Ah, the housekeeper," he cried quickly. "This man has refused again and again to bear my card to Miss Marion. Will you have the goodness to take it to her, and say that I beg she will see me for a few minutes at once?" The old lady's white forehead puckered up beneath her grey hair, as she looked in a startled way at the speaker, and then turned to the butler, who was holding Chester's card between his first and second fingers. "Who is this gentleman?" she said rather sternly, and for me moment Chester was so completely taken aback that the butler had time to speak. "Here's his card, ma'am. He's been before wanting to see Miss Clareborough. Master's seen it, ma'am, and says he don't know anything about the gentleman, and that if he had business he was to write." The housekeeper turned to Chester, raising her eyebrows a little, and he had by this time recovered his balance. "Of course," he said, "I can quite understand Mr James's action after his treatment of me, madam." "I beg your pardon, sir?" "Let me speak to you alone," he continued. "I can say nothing before this man." "Had you not better write to Mr Clareborough, sir, if you have business with the family?" "No, certainly not," said Chester. "My business is with Miss Clareborough, and I insist upon seeing her." "Excuse me, sir," said the housekeeper, calmly; "as a gentleman, you must know that one of the ladies would decline to see a stranger on business unless she knew what that business was." "A stranger--on business!" cried Chester, angrily. "My good woman, why do you talk like this to me?" "Really, sir, I do not understand you," said the housekeeper, with dignity.