He half expected the heavy, glassless door at the top of the stone steps to be opened by some one coming out to greet him, as he took up his suitcase; but the gray house, like the brighter mansions on both sides of it, remained impassive. If any one in that house had observed his coming, no sign was given. He went up the steps and, with fingers excitedly unsteady, he pushed the bell beside the door. 

 The door opened almost instantly—so quickly after the ring, indeed, that Alan, with leaping throb of his heart, knew that some one must have been awaiting him. But the door opened only halfway, and the man who stood within, gazing out at Alan questioningly, was obviously a servant. 

 "What is it?" he asked, as Alan stood looking at him and past him to the narrow section of darkened hall which was in sight. 

 Alan put his hand over the letter in his pocket.  "I've come to see Mr. Corvet," he said—"Mr. Benjamin Corvet." 

 "What is your name?" 

 Alan gave his name; the man repeated it after him, in the manner of a trained servant, quite without inflection. Alan, not familiar with such tones, waited uncertainly. So far as he could tell, the name was entirely strange to the servant, awaking neither welcome nor opposition, but indifference. The man stepped back, but not in such a manner as to invite Alan in; on the contrary, he half closed the door as he stepped back, leaving it open only an inch or two; but it was enough so that Alan heard him say to some one within: 

 "He says he's him." 

 "Ask him in; I will speak to him."  It was a girl's voice—this second one, a voice such as Alan never had heard before. It was low and soft but quite clear and distinct, with youthful, impulsive modulations and the manner of accent which Alan knew must go with the sort of people who lived in houses like those on this street. 

 The servant, obeying the voice, returned and opened wide the door. 

 "Will you come in, sir?" 

 Alan put down his suitcase on the stone porch; the man made no move to pick it up and bring it in. Then Alan stepped into the hall face to face with the girl who had come from the big room on the right. 

 She was quite a young girl—not over twenty-one or twenty-two, Alan judged; like girls brought up in wealthy families, she 

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