more, we took it over with the servants just as they stood, too,” chimed in his wife. “The only trouble was that they stood too much; in fact, all of them except Perkins.”

“Really,” said Edith.

“Yes,” replied Thursby genially, “she couldn’t get a job on the strength of her looks, but I never knew a servant do so much work and make so little fuss over it. The thing is to forget her face, if one can. How do you like Beech Lodge, Mr. Derrick?”

“Very much; but I suppose that since I’m the guilty party in taking it, I couldn’t say anything else. This room appeals to me, especially.”

As he said this, he intercepted a glance that Mr. Thursby darted at his wife, and experienced a curious conviction that these two were trying hard to conceal their satisfaction at having unloaded the house on some one else. He saw the plump lady on the sofa shake her head ever so slightly. Mr. Thursby stiffened, got a shade redder in the face, and his eyes rested for a fraction of a second on the features over the mantel, as though asking their late owner whether he required any publicity. The features evidently telegraphed back that he did not. Whereupon Mr. Thursby looked more genial than ever.

“It’s a good, comfortable room,” he agreed, “but I generally used the little one off the dining-room. It’s warmer.”

Mrs. Thursby gave a slight shiver and regarded the Derricks with renewed and unaffected interest. “I dare say it will sound very queer to you, but neither of us cared much for this room. For my part I like something brighter than old wood and old pictures. Never cared much for leather, either.”

Edith betrayed no surprise. She quite understood. But what did puzzle her was that people of the Thursby type should ever have bought this ancient mansion.

“You weren’t here very long, were you?” she ventured.

“Six months,” said Mr. Thursby; “six months, then we went off to France. I wanted to see some of the places where they used my grenades.”

“Did you make that stuff?” asked Derrick, amused.

“Tons of it. Ever use them?”

Derrick smiled. “Rather, but,” he put in hastily as his visitor brightened and prepared to talk shop, “one doesn’t say anything on that score now.”

 Prev. P 12/183 next