It added to Dauphin’s irritation that Max should hear the motor first. With ears cocked like a donkey’s, how could he help it? There was nothing in the world that Dauphin despised as he despised the police dog’s ears. They were forever pointed, alert, inquisitive, ignoble. But there it was! Max was bounding down the driveway, covering yards at a spring, before the setter could drag himself from his haunches. It was Max, too, who, when the motor passed the oak, gave the first yelp of delight. But it was Dauphin who, as his master descended from the car, entered into his depression. It was he, too, who perceived the conflict of auras when wife and husband met. Waves of unreasoned dread on the one side encountered a force of clear-eyed determination on the other as the weltering sea comes up against the steadfast rocks. They began talking as they turned to enter the house, continuing the conversation within the great hall, where only the strip of red carpet running its length and up the fine stairway, two or three bits of old carved English oak, and the brass touches on the wrought-iron baluster, relieved the admirable nudity. "Now come in here," she said, briskly, having heard all that had passed between him and Bob. He followed her into the library, where she led the way to the desk. "Read that." He ran his eye over the lines written in her legible, decorative hand. _Collingham Lodge,_ _Marillo Park._ _Dear Miss Follett_: My husband and I would be greatly obliged if you could give us a half hour of your time to talk over matters which may prove as important to you as to us. If you could make it convenient to come here to-morrow, Thursday, afternoon, you would find a very good train at three-twenty-five, and one by which to return at five-forty-seven. I inclose a time-table, and you would be met at Marillo Station. Yours sincerely, _Junia Collingham_. He looked at her wonderingly. "What’s the big idea?" "A very big idea. Don’t you see? We can cut the ground right from under his feet without his ever thinking we had anything to do with it. You personally needn’t be supposed to know that this nonsense has ever been in the air. It’s too late for me, of course, because he and I have already talked of it. But for you—" He tapped the paper in his hand. "But this move I don’t understand." "Well, sit down and I’ll tell you." CHAPTER VI At the minute when Junia Collingham was laying before her husband a plan which would bring comparative wealth to the Follett family, a number of things were happening in and about New York.