“Didn't I tell you that he was horribly disfigured? Even in the moonlight he was a dreadful sight. Do you expect him to come marching into this hotel in broad daylight this morning, so that everyone can stare at him? You really have very little common sense, Paul. I think it shows that he wants to spare us all the tittle-tattle he can. You know what hotels are, and how the people in them are simply on the look-out for something to chatter about. And when they got a chance like this—missing heir returns, and so forth—you can guess for yourself what it would be like. We'd have no life of it, with people staring at us and whispering behind our backs as we passed. And I think Derek has shown a great deal of tact and common sense in behaving as he has done. Naturally he asked to see me first. He knows how fond of him I was.” Her brother seemed to consider this fresh view of the affair for a longer time than he had devoted to any of her other statements. At last he shook his head doubtfully. “It might be as you say, of course,” he conceded grudgingly. “We must wait and see what turns up. But you can take it from me, Jay, that I shan't be satisfied unless I get something a good deal better in the way of evidence. It looks very like a parcel from a shop in Queer Street, so far as it's gone.” Miss Fordingbridge seemed content to drop that side of the matter, at least for the time. But she had something further to say. “Of course you'll drop this absurd idea of letting Foxhills now, Paul?” Her brother seemed irritated by this fresh turn given to their conversation. “Why should I? I've told you often enough that it's my business to do the best I can for Derek; and the rent of Foxhills would be worth having, even if Derek did come back. You're not suggesting that he should stay there, are you? It's far too big a place for a single man, even if he wanted to live down here at Lynden Sands.” Miss Fordingbridge was plainly put out by this suggestion. “Of course he would stay there. When he went away, didn't I keep his rooms in order, just as he left them? He could go back to-morrow and find his study exactly as it was when he left us. Everything's there just as it used to be: his books, his pipes, his old diary, his ash-trays—everything. When we shut up Foxhills, I wanted to have everything ready so that when he came back from the war he'd find everything in its usual place. He could walk straight in and feel that things were just the same and that we hadn't forgotten him. And now you want to let Foxhills just at the moment when he comes back again—rob the poor boy of the only place on this side of the world that he can call a home. I won't have it, Paul!” “Whether you have it or haven't it, Jay, is a matter of total indifference. Until the power of attorney is revoked, I shall do exactly as seems best to me; and letting Foxhills is one of the things I shall certainly do.”