After he had shut out the servants and advised Morrison that he would sit awhile with Miss Trent, he wrapped her first in a robe, then in his arms and sat rocking her with a possessive tenderness which made her realize how much she had missed from her babyhood. Her ecstasy of content must have dulled her ears. She heard no sound, merely assumed one, when he placed her in Jack’s reading chair, took a few steps toward the hall door and stood intently listening. Still she had heard nothing when he strode to the door and flung it wide. Upon the threshold, in a panic of indecision between flight and remaining, stood Annette. Her eyes, nondescript except for their shrewdness, followed the thinking glance of the man who had surprised her from the half-light of the corridor to the strong one of the reading-lamp within, then down to the key-hole, minus its key. Evidently, she decided on bravado. A sneer drew down the corners of her mouth. She straightened to face the master. “You back?” he asked. “Madame finds herself in need of certain dinner gowns. She returned me to select and pack them.” “She sent you back from Florida to select and pack certain dinner gowns? Just what does madame pay you for the job?” “Does not Mr. Cabot know the amount of my salary, none too large for one who has served----” “I mean how much for this key-hole job?” At his contemptuous interruption, the woman caught her breath. “Five-hundred-dollar, m’sieu.” “A five-hundred-dollar bonus? Madame is good to you. However, I am in a position to be better. I’ll advance that bonus to-night, if you’ll leave her employ.” Her avaricious watch of his face eased in a disappointed laugh. “Does m’sieu think I would turn the traitor to a mistress who has ever been most generous and who trusts----” “I do.” “And for a wretched five hundred, already earned?” “I do not--not for five hundred.” He contributed a short laugh. “But for that in cash, plus a check for one thousand, good in six months if you neglect to report to this trusting mistress who has been so generous with you.” “But how can M’sieu Cabot think so low of me that for a paltry thousand-dollar----” “The five hundred you get now,” he detailed. “The check for a thousand will be dated so that you can cash it in June, unless traitoring has become a habit with you. If it does, I shall stop payment at the bank. You will leave this house and Mrs. Cabot’s employ at once. Satisfactory?” The click of the last-word question must have satisfied the maid that she could profit no further. “Quite,” she replied, succinctly as he. Without comment on the fact that he had read her aright, John Cabot counted five century notes from his wallet and drew the promised check, calling her attention to the date, six months from that day. When she had gone he said to Dolores: “I want my freedom, but not at your expense.” “You really think,” the girl faltered, “that that is why Annette is here?”