"Hello," said a mischievous voice, and he caught a gleam of bright eyes and a smiling face at the gaping crack. Hastily opening the doors, he passed through, and, firmly closing them behind him, stood over the beautiful but slightly unformed and undeveloped figure sitting on the sofa, that was drawn close up to the doors. "Derrice," he said, reprovingly. "What a trying time you are having with your mamma," she said, saucily. "I was just about to interrupt. I want to go to bed." "Very well," he said, submissively, and, preceding her into the hall, he picked up a small leather bag. Mrs. Prymmer, peering out of the front room, saw them go by,--her son with the girl's cloak thrown over his shoulder, his head inclined toward her, as he talked in a low voice. "Bewitched!" she exclaimed, furiously, and, creeping to the door-sill, she listened to their further movements. Ever since his childhood her son had occupied a large room at the back of the house overlooking the garden. Mrs. Prymmer heard him open the door of this room and ask his wife to stand still while he found a match. Then there was a silence, and she pictured the girl's critical glance running over the muffled furniture, the covered bed, and the drawn blinds. Presently there was the sound of the strange voice in the hall, "I cannot sleep in that room. It is damp, and the sheets are clammy." "But, Derrice," said her son's clear tones in remonstrance. "I am not mistaken," repeated the girl, "where are your other sleeping-rooms?" "If Micah is at home we haven't any," he said, decidedly. "Most of our bedrooms are shut up." "Then I shall have to sit up all night or go to a hotel," said the girl, with equal decision. Mrs. Prymmer felt herself called upon to save the family reputation. She stepped into the hall, and in a voice choking with wrath called up the staircase, "Micah isn't home,--put her in his room." The girl looked over the railing at her. It seemed to Mrs. Prymmer that her eyes were rolling mischievously. "Thank you," she said, sweetly, then she retired, and her disconcerted mother-in-law went back to the parlour. CHAPTER II. AN UNEXPECTED DAUGHTER-IN-LAW. When Justin returned to the parlour there was a slight flush on his face, and, taking off his spectacles, he wiped them with a somewhat weary air. "I guess you've got a handful in your new wife," said his mother, with resentful relish. He gave her an unexpected smile. "She hasn't been brought up as we have--" Then he paused and fell into a reverie out of which his mother inexorably roused him. "I wish you would get on with your story. I don't want to stay here all night." Justin put on his glasses, brushed back the thick hair from his forehead, and, leaning forward in his chair, said, firmly, "It is just five weeks to-day since I came home with a telegram from Mr. Lancaster asking me to go to see him on urgent business."