"Then," she declared, "you are the man I want. Mr. Etheridge--that is the lawyer from New York who has lately been coming here--does not seem to have much confidence in himself or me. But you look as if you might do something or suggest something. I mean about getting the young ladies to give up their whims." "Has this Mr.--Mr. Etheridge, did you call him?--been doing their business long?" "I never saw him here till a month ago." "Ah! a month ago! And do they like him? Do they seem inclined to take his advice? Does he press it upon them?" "I wish I knew. I am only a poor servant, remember, though my bringing up was as good almost as theirs. They are kind to me, but I do not sit down in the parlor; if I did, I might know something of what is going on. I can only judge, you see, by looks." "And the looks? Come, I have a _great_ interest in the young ladies--almost as great as yours. What do their looks say?--I mean since this young man came to visit them? He is a young man, didn't you say?" "Yes, he is young, and so good-looking. I have thought--now don't spill the currants, just as we have filled the pail--that he was a little sweet on Miss Hermione, and that that was why he came here so often, and not because he had business." "You have?" twitted the old man, almost dancing about her in his sudden excitement. "Well, well, that must be seen to. A wedding, eh, a wedding? That's what you think is coming?" And Doris could not tell whether it was pleasure or alarm that gave so queer a look to his eyes. "I cannot say--I wish I could," she fervently cried; "then I might hope to see a change here; then we might expect to see these two sweet young ladies doing like other folks and making life pleasant for themselves and every one about them. But Miss Hermione is a girl who would be very capable of saying no to a young man if he stood in the way of any resolve she had taken. I don't calculate much on her being influenced by love, or I would never have bothered you with my troubles. It is fear that must control her, or----" Doris paused and looked at him knowingly--"or she must be lured out of the house by some cunning device." Huckins, who had been feeling his way up to this point, brightened as he noticed the slyness of the smile with which she emphasized this insinuation, and from this moment felt more assured. But he said nothing as yet to show how he was affected by her words. There was another little matter he wanted settled first. "Do you know," he asked, "why she, and her sister, too, I believe, have taken this peculiar freak? Have they ever told you, or have you ever--" how close his head got to hers, and how he nodded and peered--"surprised their secret?" Doris shook her head. "All a mystery," she whispered, and began picking currants again, that operation having stopped as they got more earnest.