She stopped at a gateway formed by a gap in a hedge of spicy scented boxwood that paralleled the sidewalk. "Here we are," she said, turning in. He saw a rose-shaded light in the window of a small house set far back from the street. "Betty is waiting for me," she explained. "I want you to meet her." On each side of the pathway leading back to the house was a rose garden with the bushes set at precise intervals. The rose garden ended half way back from the sidewalk. Before the house, for the entire width of the lot and a dozen paces deep, was closely cropped grass. Flat stones, set into the lawn like the footprints of an elephant, provided an artistic path to the door, which was massive in size and of unfinished stained oak. The flanges of the hinges were of beaten iron held in place by studded bolts. A quaint knocker was above the handle to the latch. "You'll pardon me for a moment?" Consuello asked, opening the door and stepping inside, returning a moment later to hold it open for him to enter. The room was exceptionally large, with rafters across the ceiling. At one end was a huge fireplace and rugs were scattered over a smooth but unpolished floor. Betty rose from an easy chair as he entered. She had been reading. John saw that she was slender, dark-eyed, rather pretty. "Betty, this is Mr. Gallant," said Consuello by way of an introduction. "Consuello has spoken of you, often," said Betty, advancing with a friendly smile and an outstretched hand. Mentally John thanked her for the words. He knew instinctively that he would like her and that she would be a friend to him. "Miss Carrillo has been more than kind to me," he said. "I often wonder why she is," he added, returning Betty's smile. "She likes you," said Betty, with a frankness that startled him a little. He glanced toward Consuello and saw that she was regarding Betty with an amused look. Betty moved toward a door at the side of the room. "Will you care if I leave you?" she said. "Please do not think it rudeness. I have been doing a little studying which I must finish tonight and----" "I'm intruding, I know," interrupted John. "You're not," she remonstrated with the candidness that John found later was so engaging. Her smile overcame his temporary embarrassment. "I'll see you again, I'm sure," she added, nodding slightly before she stepped into the other room, closing the door behind her. "What do you think of our little home?" Consuello asked as he turned toward her. She was seated in the chair Betty had left. "It's like you," he said, feeling free to take the chair near her. "It is so genuinely--beautiful." This time he felt no hesitancy in saying it. "And what of it do you like best of all?" she asked quickly.