Dorothy laughed, then became serious. “I believe he has made a specialty of surgery.” She turned as if to go. “By the way, Murray, did Mr. Wyndham mention when he would be back?” “No, miss, he didn’t.” Murray, turning about to replace a dish on the shelf, smiled discreetly. “I’m thinking, miss, that Mr. Hugh intended to tell Mrs. Porter when he would be back when that ’tec, Mr. Mitchell, stepped out of the door I was holding open for Mrs. Porter, and Mr. Hugh called to her to expect him when she saw him, and the car started off with a rush. He was here this morning.” “Who--Mr. Hugh?” Dorothy turned like a flash. “No, no, miss, the ’tec, Mitchell. I hear tell as how he’s the man in charge here; tall, light-haired, looks as if he didn’t belong anywhere, ’cause he’s so busy concealing he’s looking everywhere.” “I know the man you mean.” Dorothy laid her hand on the swing door. “Miss Millicent and I watched him pacing up and down the carriage drive before breakfast, and saw him go toward Dr. Thorne’s house. Has he been here since? Oh!” She stepped back, startled, as a face appeared at the pantry window, and a second later a finger tapped gently on the pane. “Speaking of the devil”--muttered Murray, walking past Dorothy and throwing open the window. “What do you want to scare the lady for?” he demanded wrathfully. “I beg your pardon.” Mitchell lifted his hat and regarded Dorothy solemnly. “I was under the impression she had seen me standing here a moment ago. Please tell Nurse Deane, Murray, that I wish to see her.” Dorothy, who had drawn back until she stood partly hidden by the wall of the pantry from Mitchell’s penetrating gaze, grew paler as she heard the detective’s request, and the quick droop of her eyelids hid a look of sudden terror. Before the footman could reply she stepped forward to the window. “My sister is off duty this morning,” she said. “She is still asleep in her bedroom. Can I take your message to her?” Mitchell considered rapidly before replying. “May I have a few words with you?” “Surely. Will you not come into the house? It is rather chilly standing by an open window.” “Walk around to the front door, sir, and I’ll show you into the drawing-room,” directed Murray, removing his apron and closing the window. “Mrs. Porter is in the library,” he added, and hastened to open the swing door. With a word of thanks Dorothy walked slowly through the dining-room and down the hall, permitting the footman to reach the front door and usher Detective Mitchell into the drawing-room before she entered. She bowed courteously to Mitchell and signed to him to take a chair near the sofa on which she deposited herself with careful regard to having her back turned to the windows and the detective facing the light. She waited for him to open the conversation.