they certainly felt it themselves.”

“But how could we be expected by any one who didn’t know us? You can’t explain that.”

He looked at her with sudden gravity. “Did you never have a curious sensation that you were doing things for the second time?”

“Now you’re joking. Have some more tea?”

“No,” he said, “I’m not, and there’s no explanation for it. In fact I’ve an idea that they’re not meant to be explained; at least not yet. But I felt it the minute I got here.”

“But, Jack,” she protested, “you saw the house; you liked it, especially as you couldn’t quite afford it; and of course you were impulsive and took it. What has that to do with a servant, or any one else?”

“Perhaps nothing whatever. It’s a wonderful place to work in.”

“I think that’s the best way to look at it. What did Mr. Thursby talk about?”

“Mostly roses and mulch.” He broke off suddenly, regarding his sister with an intense and puzzled expression. “I’ve an extraordinary impression that some one died in this room not long ago; some one who didn’t want to die and wasn’t ready for it.”

“What do you mean?” she stammered. “Please, Jack, don’t go off on that tack the very day we reach here. You’ll never get anything done.”

“I mean just that; I’m perfectly sure some one did. Perkins will know, and, I say, perhaps that’s what—”

“Jack,” she interrupted hastily, “please leave Perkins to me. When Mrs. Thursby was here she said that there was a sudden death in this room about two years ago, and—”

“Millicent?” he shot out.

“Yes,” she said helplessly.

“Murdered?”

“I assumed that. He was found at his desk. Mrs. Thursby seemed to want to say more, and yet not want to.” Miss Derrick paused, aware of her brother’s penetrating gaze. He would soon know it all in any case, and perhaps it was wisest to clear the air as much as possible at the outset.

“Now I understand why the rental asked was so low,” she continued. “The Thursbys simply got frightened. But I’m astonished you asked no questions on your account.”

He shook his head 

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