Mrs. Barkley stared at him in bewilderment. Was he going to offer Lydia a position as housekeeper? She was fairly dizzy with this seesaw of possibilities; and she was perplexed, too, for, after all, badly as Lydia needed assistance, propriety must be considered, and certainly this housekeeping project was of doubtful propriety. "Because you know you are neither of you very old," she explained. Mr. Rives looked disturbed. "Yes, we are," he said, sharply. "Quite old enough. I would not wish a youthful wife, for--many reasons. There might be--results, which would interfere with my comfort. No, Lydia is no longer young; yet she is sufficiently robust to make me extremely comfortable." The light was breaking slowly on Mrs. Barkley. Her face flushed; she sat up very straight and tapped the table with her thimble. "The expense of an extra person is not very considerable, is it?" Mr. Rives said, doubtfully. "It was in regard to this that I wished to consult you." "Not more than the wages of a housekeeper or a nurse," Mrs. Barkley said, in a restrained voice. "Exactly!" cried Mr. Rives--"granted that her health is good." Mrs. Barkley opened and closed her lips. Her impulse to show him the door battled with her common-sense. After all, it would mean a home for Lydia; it would mean comfort and ease and absence from worry--plus, of course, Mr. Rives. But if Lydia liked him, that wouldn't make any difference. And she must like him--her faithfulness to the picture proved it--and he was an agreeable person; amiable, too, Mrs. Barkley thought, for he always smiled when he spoke. "Would you live in Old Chester?" she managed to say, after a pause. "Yes." "You would build, I suppose?" Mrs. Barkley said, trying, in the confusion of her thoughts, to make time. "No," Mr. Rives said; "we would reside in Lydia's present abode." "_In Lydia's house_? You couldn't!--why, it would be impossible!" Mrs. Barkley, her mouth open with astonishment, saw, suddenly, that this project was not comfort plus William, but William minus comfort. "You couldn't! The chimney in the parlor is dreadful; it smokes whenever the wind is from the west." "But, as I understand, Lydia has been provided with the means of mending the chimney?" William said, anxiously. At this the rein broke. Mrs. Barkley rose, tapping the table with alarming loudness and glaring down at her guest. "William Rives, I have been a perfect fool. But you are worse--you are a mean person. I'd rather live with a murderer than a mean man!" [Illustration: "MRS. BARKLEY ROSE, TAPPING THE TABLE WITH ALARMING LOUDNESS"] Mr. Rives was unmoved. His little, steely smile never wavered; he rose also, bowed, and said: "Possibly Miss Sampson does not agree with you. I will bid you good-night, ma'am." "I was a perfect fool," she said again, as the door closed softly behind him.