My companion lowered her fine lashes, speaking with the seeming shyness that was her charm. "I’m thinking of asking her to come and live with me. You see, if I take a house of my own I shall need some one; and she suits me. She understands the kind of people I like to work among—" "Oh, then you’re not going to keep on living here." "I’ve lived with my brother and sister ever since my father died; but one comes to a time when one needs a home of one’s own. Don’t you think so?" "Oh, of course!" "A man—like you, for instance—can be so free; but a woman has to live within exact limitations. The only way she can get any liberty at all is within her own home. Not that my brother and sister aren’t angelic to me. They are, of course; but you know what I mean." The glance that stole under her lashes was half daring and half apologetic. "It must be wonderful to do as one likes—to experiment with different sorts of life—and get to know things at first hand." So that was her summing up concerning me. I was one of those moderns with so keen a thirst for life that I was testing it at all its springs. She didn’t know my ultimate intention, but she could sympathize with my methods and admire my courage and thoroughness. Almost in so many words she said if she had not been timid and hedged in by conventions it was what she would have liked herself. Before any one came to disturb us there seeped through her conversation, too, the reason of Averill’s coldness. They had discussed me a good deal, and while he had nothing to accuse me of, he considered that the burden of the proof of my innocence lay with me. I might be all right—and then I might not be. So long as there was any question as to my probity I was a person to watch with readiness to help, but not one to ask to luncheon. He would not have invited me to tea a few days before, and had allowed me to pass and repass before ceding to his wife’s persistence. He had consequently been the more annoyed when she carried her curiosity to the point of bringing me there that day. Miss Averill did not, of course, say these things; she would have been amazed to know that I inferred them. I shouldn’t have inferred them had I not seen her brother and partially read his mind. But my hostess came trailing in—the verb is the only one I can find to express her gracefully lymphatic movements—and I was obliged to submit to a welcome which was overemphasized for the benefit of the husband who entered behind her.