He proceeded to a telegraph office and sent a despatch to a friend up North, asking him to telegraph him to come at once, taking his chances of getting a reply. After this he boarded a north-going car, and was rolled out to Chevy Chase. He had no difficulty in finding the house of which he was in search. It was a fine example of colonial architecture, well back from the road, and fields beyond it. It was of red brick and white stone, with a wide veranda supported by great white pillars. There was a modern portico at one side. A fine lawn surrounded the whole, and white-pebble walks wound in and out. All around were thickly wooded hills, gashed here and there by the familiar yet peculiar red clay of the country. Warburton walked up the driveway and knocked deliberately at the servants' door, which was presently opened. (I learned all these things afterward, which accounts for my accurate knowledge of events.) "Please inform Miss Annesley that Mr. Osborne has come in reply to her letter," he said to the little black-eyed French maid. "Ees Meestaire Osborrrrne zee new groom?" "Yes." "I go thees minute!" _Hein!_ what a fine-looking young man to make eyes at on cold nights in the kitchen! Warburton sat down and twirled his hat. Several times he repressed the desire to laugh. He gazed curiously about him. From where he sat he could see into the kitchen. The French chef was hanging up his polished pans in a glistening row back of the range, and he was humming a little _chanson_ which Warburton had often heard in the restaurants of the provincial cities of France. He even found himself catching up the refrain where the chef left off. Presently he heard footsteps sounding on the hardwood floor, which announced that the maid was returning with her mistress. He stood up, rested first on one foot, then on the other, and awkwardly shifted his new hat from one hand to the other, then suddenly put the hat under his arm, recollecting that the label was not such as servants wore inside their hats. There was something disquieting in those magnetic sapphire eyes looking so serenely into his. IX THE HEROINE HIRES A GROOM