"If you scream or do anything silly you will be ever so sorry," she said. "Go down into the hall and talk to Jo. Keep him where the stove is, with his back to the door." "But how am I to do it?" the girl asked. "Take him something to eat," Miss Schuyler said impatiently. "Any way, it should not be hard to fool him--I have seen him looking at you. Now, I wonder if that grey dress of mine would fit you--I have scarcely had it on, but it's a little too tight for me." The girl's eyes glistened, she moved swiftly down the corridor, Flora Schuyler laughed, and Grant looked away. "Larry," said Hetty, "it isn't just what one would like--but I am afraid it is necessary." Five minutes later Hetty moved across the hall, making a little noise, so that the cow-boy, who stood near the other end of it, with the maid close by him, should notice her. She softly opened the outer door, and then came back and signed to Grant and Flora Schuyler, who stood waiting in the corridor. "No," he said, and the lamplight showed a darker hue than the bronze of frost and sun in his face. "Miss Schuyler, I have never felt quite so mean before, and you will leave the rest to me." "It seems to me," she said coolly, "that what you feel does not count for much. Just now you have to do what is best for everybody. Stoop as low as you can." She stretched out her hand with a little imperious gesture, and laid it on his arm, drawing herself up to her full height as she stood between him and the light. They moved forward together, and Hetty closed her hand as she watched them pass into the hall. The end was dim and shadowy, for the one big lamp that was lighted stood some distance away by the stove, where the man on watch was talking to the maid. Hetty realized that the girl was playing her part well as she saw her make a swift step backwards, and heard the man's low laugh. Flora Schuyler and Grant were not far from the door now, the girl walking close to her companion. In another moment they would have passed out of sight into the shadow, but while Hetty felt her fingers trembling, the man on watch, perhaps hearing their footsteps, turned round. "Hallo!" he said. "It seems kind of cold. What can Miss Schuyler want with opening the door? Is that Miss Torrance behind her?" He moved forward a pace, apparently not looking where he was going, but towards the door, and might have moved further, but that the maid swiftly stretched out one foot, and a chair with the tray laid on it went over with a crash. "Now there's going to be trouble. See what you've done," she said. The man stopped, staring at the wreck upon the floor. "Well," he said, "I'm blamed if I touched the thing. What made it fall over, any way?" "Pick them up," the girl said sharply. "You don't want to make trouble for me!"