"Anyhow, the chair wasn't where it belonged," he said. "And when you sit in it your head doesn't even stick over the top. I had no idea there was anybody in it, of course."

"Of course," she assented. There was a funny little wrinkle at the corner of her mouth.

"See here," said Bill sharply. "You are kidding me, and—well, I'm glad I kicked the chair."

"But really, I don't think either of us was to blame," said the young woman. "I knew the chair wasn't in its regular place. It was moved over here for me."

"What for?"

[Pg 28]

[Pg 28]

"So I could look at the ancestors."

Bill glanced at the wall, where Grandfather and Grandmother Marshall hung in their golden frames.

"Now, who in blazes did that?" he demanded.

"I don't know. Some young man." She spoke as if young men were articles. "I called to see Miss Marshall and a maid left me here for a few minutes. And then this young man came into the room. He asked me if I was interested in ancestors; that was the very first thing he said. And I said I was!"

"Are you?"

"Certainly. So he moved the chair to the center of the room and made me sit in it. He wanted me to be where I could get a proper light on the ancestors, he said. And then he explained them to me. He was very interesting."

"He is interesting," admitted Bill. "But he is an awful liar!"

"Isn't that too bad!"

"Oh, not necessarily. It's really not very important whether he tells the truth or tells lies. You see, he's only a servant."

"Oh."

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