He seemed disposed to take advantage of this, and rather pressed an immediate decision on some question. It was not till this moment that Missy knew that Mr. Andrews was in the room. He was lying on a sofa in a corner, and a screen stood before him, shielding him from the light. "Mr. Andrews, I beg your pardon," she said, getting up. "I am afraid we are disturbing you. I didn't know you were here. We will go into the dining-room if this gentleman has anything more to say." "I don't think he has," said Mr. Andrews, raising himself a little on his elbow. "Don't think of going to the dining-room, or of discussing the matter further, for I am sure you are too tired to-night. Perhaps I can attend to the matter for you." An inquiring look towards the agent had a very salutary effect upon him. It was quite amazing to notice how his manner changed when he found he had a man to deal with. Missy sat by humbled, while she listened to their talk. Why couldn't she have been business-like? Why couldn't she have said what Mr. Andrews was saying, without "losing her head," and getting nervous? It was her affair, and she certainly ought to know more about it than he did. When the man was fairly out of the door, she gave a sigh, and said: "I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Andrews, for helping me out of it." "I think the man is rather a sharper, and I'm afraid you are not a business woman, Miss Rothermel." "I am afraid not; and I always meant to be." Then there was a pause. Mr. Andrews laid his head back on the pillow of the sofa, and seemed not to have anything more to say. Missy had a great deal to say, but she didn't know where to begin. She was full of contrition and purposes of amendment; but the situation was most embarrassing, and Mr. Andrews was not inclined to help her. Time pressed. It was insupportable to sit still by the lamp, and not say anything. Mr. Andrews was lying down, too. What if any one should come in, and find her sitting there, entertaining him? She wished for Aunt Harriet--for any one; but she must say her say; and she rushed at it. "I am afraid," she said, in a voice that showed agitation, "I am afraid you are not so well to-day, Mr. Andrews." "I have had an uncomfortable day; but I don't suppose I am materially worse--at least the doctor doesn't tell me so." Then another pause. Certainly he did not mean to help her. "I am afraid," she said, getting up, and laying down upon the table the paper-cutter that she had been turning and twisting in her fingers, "I am afraid our being here makes you very uncomfortable. And it ought to be just the other way. We are so much indebted to you! You have been so good--and--and--"