She approached him pleadingly. "Is that all you have to say to me, Alexis?" "What do you expect me to say?" he braced himself visibly, "except that I am speechless with surprise?" Drawing forward a porch chair, he motioned her toward it. "Won't you sit down? It is a long journey from New York and you must be tired." His voice was cold with restrained anger. Her knees bent beneath her, and she sank into the chair with a tired sigh. "Thank you, Alexis," the small voice was pathetic. "But I forget," Alexis added as Anne approached them rather hesitatingly, "this is my hostess, Mrs. Schuyler. Mrs. Schuyler, my wife." The girl rose and bowed formally. Then fell back into her chair. Anne came to her side. With quick pity, saying the first thing that came into her head. "It's a frightful trip up here, isn't it? You must be simply starving, I will order luncheon immediately." She was about to enter the house, but Claire stopped her with a quick little gesture of refusal. "Thank you, that is very kind. But I really couldn't eat anything--that is-----" she faltered bravely. "I had a sandwich on the train." Her pathetic attempt at dignity went to Anne's heart. "Oh, yes, of course," she said, "and now if you will excuse me, I will leave you two alone. I'm sure you have a great deal to talk about." With a nod and a kind little smile, she disappeared into the house. Her perfect exit irritated Claire. With a sudden excess of pride, she turned to Alexis and looked at him coldly. "You're very fortunate in your hostess," she said with unexpected poise. "How did you happen to meet her?" Alexis sat down on the railing and faced his wife. "It's a long story, Claire, but not so strange as you probably imagine. I was ill when Mrs. Schuyler found me, and she was good enough to take me in. She is a charming woman," he continued tactlessly. "And very comme il faut." "Oh, I have no doubt about that," Claire interrupted bitterly. "Very comme il vous faut, I am sure." Her emphasis of the "vous" was both angry and insulting. Alexis sprang to his feet with an exclamation of rage. "How dare you insinuate such a thing, Claire?" he darted an angry glance toward the doorway. "Mrs. Schuyler is an angel!" he finished with emphasis. Claire winced beneath the adoration in his tone. "You love her, don't you?" she said wistfully. Her great hopeless eyes rested on his flushed face. Completely startled, he rose to his feet and stood over her almost menacingly. "Five minutes ago I didn't know it," he announced brutally, "it remained for you to teach me." "I!" The cry was wrung from blanched lips. He met her anguished eyes with insolence. "And now, if you will be so good as to tell me what you came for," he began, "and how you discovered my whereabouts. Did the chauffeur----?" "Oh, no. He didn't say a word. I took down the number of the car, and then, it was fairly easy for your mother to discover the rest." "And so she sent you after me?"