“I hate to think what a sad shock it must have been to you coming upon me so,” he said contritely. “You look ready to drop. Won’t you sit down? The chair over yonder by the stair railing is all right for I dusted it with my pocket handkerchief.” “Thank you,” the girl faltered, “but----” He understood. “Naturally you would like to get out of here right away? May I help you down? The stairway is steep and narrow and it is dark below. But perhaps you would rather go alone?” The girl’s heart throbbed strangely. “I should like to get out into the air,” she said. “I can get down all right, but----” “May I come after and--explain myself?” he asked. “I want you to understand and to feel safe from further shocks of the sort.” She murmured a confused affirmative and started to feel her way down. “Do you mind my shining a light?” he asked. “I have an electric flash-light in my pocket, but please don’t think me a professional burglar for all that.” Alice tried to laugh, though she was still shaken. He lighted her down and out, took her key, locked the door and handed it back to her. “You live in the house?” he asked. Alice explained that she lived there with her mother but that they were visiting in the part of the village called South Hollow. She knew that she shouldn’t be saying this to a stranger whom she had found in the upper storey of the shop; but for herself she felt that there are strangers and strangers. “I know the Hollow,” he said. “I lived about here as a boy. Are you going back now?” Alice replies that she ought to be, but that she felt as if she must sit down for a little first and would go up to the porch. He accompanied her thither and asked if he might wait. And when she gave the desired permission, he suggested that she get herself a wrap from the house. As she complied with the suggestion, the girl seemed to feel her mother’s horror. He unlocked the door for her and waited on the walk below. When she came out and dropped down upon one settee, he seated himself opposite. “I want to apologise for my thoughtlessness which might have had serious consequences,” he said quietly. “And I give you my word that I will not come near the place again so that you needn’t feel nervous about coming in at any time. And--neither need your mother. I suppose you will tell her?” “No, I don’t think I will,” said the girl slowly. “It would frighten her unnecessarily and what’s the use?” “None if you feel so,” he said. “I confess that I shall be very glad if you do not, though I wouldn’t stand in the way of your doing so if you feel it right. As a matter of fact, I don’t want anyone to know I am about here--or that anyone is about who is not here ordinarily.” “I won’t mention it,” she said. “You are very good,” he returned simply. For a little there was silence between them. Then he spoke.