"Nothing. It's not sudden. I've wanted to have this talk with you for a long time--not that it does any good ... we'll probably drag along the same old way." She sat thoughtfully silent for a moment. "I'll draw you a cheque, of course," she added listlessly. "You must pay up your debts at once. But you do worry me ..." "Miss Wynrod?" "What is it, Huldah?" Roger stopped his discourse and the maid advanced with a card. Judith took it and knitted her brows as she read. "Who is it, sis?" "'Brent Good,'" she read, "_'The Workman's World'_" "Well, he has got nerve," cried Roger. "That's that Socialist sheet, isn't it? Why, they take a crack at us once a week regular. And now they've got the gall to send a man out here. Tell him to go to the devil." Judith turned to the maid. "Tell him that I am not at home, please, Huldah." "I thought that would be the message," said a cheerful voice beyond the hedge, "so I didn't wait for it." A moment later a tall figure of a man emerged and took off his hat with an awkward bow. "Good morning, Miss Wynrod." His bronzed, angular face, with its deep-set eyes and wide mouth, softened in a smile which was undeniably pleasing. Judith surveyed his shabby figure, compounded of all manner of curious depressions and protuberances, and half smiled herself. His cheerfulness was infectious. Also, his appearance was almost comic, which was paradoxical in a representative of so savage an organ as _The Workman's World_. Then she recalled the circumstances of his intrusion, and when she spoke her voice was chill. "I believe you heard my message." "Clearly. But if you had known that I had come all the way out from the city on a very hot morning, merely to do you a favour, I don't think you would have given it." He surveyed her reproachfully. Then his lips parted again in a smile. "Won't you give me five minutes, Miss Wynrod--please." Judith was no exception to the rule that curiosity is a dominant motive in human conduct. Besides, she had already succumbed to the curious stranger's magnetic geniality. She hesitated. "Well ..." He took it to be acquiescence. "Thanks very much. Now could I have this five minutes with you--alone?" Roger frowned at the request, and winked at his sister. "This is my brother. Anything that concerns me will concern him." The stranger's demeanour was unruffled. "I see. And I am very glad. What I have to say does concern your brother quite as much as it concerns yourself." "Fire away!" interrupted Roger. Curiosity is by no means a distinctively feminine weakness. The occupant of the shabby brown suit removed his almost equally brown straw hat and laid it on the grass. "It's hot, isn't it," he smiled. It was difficult to resist that smile. Judith invited him to be seated. And although she herself remained standing, he accepted the invitation with alacrity. She marked that against him, although his next remark appeased her somewhat.