He was amusing himself in speculations as to what manner of library a man like Porter would have, and whether he read anything but the newspapers, when the shadow of a young woman crept into the mirror; she stood placing flowers in a vase on a table in the center of the room. He thought for a moment that a figure from a painting had given a pretty head and a pair of graceful shoulders to the mirror. In the room where he sat the frames contained peasants in sabots, generous panels of Hudson River landscape, a Detaille and an Inness. He changed the direction of his eyes to inspect again the Brittany girl that stood looking out over the sea in the manner of Brittany girls in pictures. The girl in the mirror was not the same; moreover, he could hear her humming softly; her head moved gracefully; there was no question of her reality. Her hands had brought a bunch of sweet peas within the mirror's compass, and were detaching a part of them for the vase by which she stood. She hummed on in her absorption, bending again, so that Saxton lost sight of her; then she stood upright, holding the unused flowers as if uncertain what to do with them. The head flashed out of the mirror, which reflected again only the library shelves and books. Then he heard a light step crossing the hall, and the girl, still singing softly to herself, passed back of him to a little stand which stood by one of the drawing-room windows. The back of the wicker chair hid him; she was wholly unconscious that any one was there. The breath of the sweet peas which she was distributing suddenly sweetened the cool air of the room. Seeing that the girl did not know of his presence in the house, and that she would certainly discover him when she turned to go, he rose and faced her. "I beg your pardon!" "Oh!" The sweet peas fell to the floor, and the girl looked anxiously toward the hall door. "I beg your pardon," Saxton repeated. "I think--I fear--I wasn't announced. But I believe that Mr. Porter is expecting me." "Yes?" The girl looked at John for the first time. He was taking the situation seriously, and was sincerely sorry for having startled her. His breadth of shoulders was impressive; he was clad in gray homespun, and there seemed to be a good deal of it in the room. His smooth-shaven face was sunburned. She thought he might be an Englishman. He was of the big blond English type common in the American cattle country. "Father will be here very soon, I think." She moved toward the door with dignity, ignoring the fallen flowers, and Saxton stepped forward and picked them up. "Allow me." The girl took them from him, a little uncertainly and guardedly, then returned to the vase and placed the flowers in it.