"You are like all the rest of your sex--self-conscious as hens when they see an automobile coming! You knew it was queer to shut yourself up there with that darned fool, Maitland, _and that's why you loved doing it_," he flung at her. "That's the trouble with women nowadays; not that they do unusual things, but they are so blamed pleased to be unusual! And if they only knew it, they don't shock a man at all. They only bore him to death." "I--" "But I suppose you can't help it; you are so atrociously young," he ended, sighing. Frederica was almost too angry to speak. "I am old enough to do as I choose!" "Only Youth does as it chooses," he told her. "Reflect upon what I have said, my dear infant, and profit by it.... Stop at the iron dog!" he called to the driver. And the next minute Frederica, buffeted by the high, keen wind, ran past the dog, whose back was ridged with grimy snow, and, holding on to her hat with one hand, let herself into the hall with her latch-key. "What's the matter with _him_?" she thought, slamming the front door behind her; "it isn't his funeral!" CHAPTER VII At the jar of the banging door, Andy Payton's hat moved slightly on the hat-rack, and something snarled at the head of the stairs. "It's nothing, Morty--only sister," a motherly voice said; and Miss Carter leaned over the baluster: "I'm just bringing him down to his supper; he's a little nervous this evening." "Oh," Fred said, shortly; "well, wait till I get out of the way, please." She stepped into the unlighted parlor, and stood there in the darkness, between the piano and the bust of Mr. Andrew Payton; as she waited, her hand fell on the open keyboard, and she struck a jangling chord. "Flora has been playing on the sly," she thought; "poor old Flora!" Then for a moment her fingers were rigid on the keys--the scrabbling procession was passing through the hall down to the room where Mortimore's food was given to him. When the door closed behind him she drew a breath of relief. She never looked at her brother when she could avoid it. As she went up-stairs she paused on the landing to call out, "Hello, Mother!" Mrs. Payton answered from the sitting-room: "Don't you want some tea, dear?" Frederica hesitated; she didn't want any tea, but--"I suppose it pleases her," she thought, resignedly; and went into the pleasant, fire-lit room, with its bubbling teakettle and fragrance of Roman hyacinths blooming on the window-sills. "Finished your puzzle?" she asked, good-naturedly.