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beginning of your life, and know nothing at all about happiness—as yet! ”
    He swept up a camel greatcoat from the back of a chair and also a dispatch-case.
    “ Mrs. Carpenter tells me that you have already met my brother, Serena ’ s father? ” His voice was suddenly pitched in a lower key, and she detected a new note of seriousness in it. “ I think I ’ d better explain to you that my brother Adrian was the victim of an accident a few years ago which deprived him not only of his wife but of his health, and even to-day he is not an entirely fit man. He has few interests in life save this house and its s urroundings and his piano-playing, and even Serena has never meant very much to him. I should be glad, Miss Gower—perhaps gratef u l would be a better word—if, should he show any disposition to talk to you at times, possibly on such a subject as his music, you would not feel inclined to snub him. It is not often that he betrays any interest in anyone, but the housekeeper seems to think you made an impression ... ”
    “ Oh, really? ” said Mallory, considerably surprised.
    The cold, sarcastic look crept back into his eyes. “ Does that astonish you so much? Do modern young women under-value themselves? ”
    He moved towards the door.
    “ I must go. I ’ ve already told you I ’ ve a train to catch ... ” And then he stepped briskly ba ck to her side, and his eyes this time were hard and keen. “ But before I go I want to be sure you will not inveigle my niece on to the back of Saladin, or even Shamrock, while I am away! I want your word for it that you recognize your responsibility where she is concerned. ”
    “ Really, Mr. Benedict, ” Mallory almost gasped, “ as if I would! ” She was affronted at last, and the shock of what he must think of her turned her quite white. “ I am not irresponsible ... ”
    “ Well, perhaps you are not... ”
    There came a quick tap at the door and Mrs. Carpenter put her head round it.
    “ The car is waiting, Mr. Raife, and you have not a great deal of time. ”
    “ I ’ m coming, Carpie, ” he told her. He looked again at Mallory, nodded his head curtly, and then said: “ Very well! ”
    When he had swept from the room, and the sound of Fardyce, the chauffeur, closing upon his master the rear door of the expensive silver-grey car which had brought her from the station reached her ears, she went out into the hall and stood beside Mrs. Carpenter, who was gazing with strange thoughtfulness out through the open front door.
    “ I suppose it ’ s because I never go up to Town these days, ” the housekeeper remarked, almost as if she was communing with herself, “ and it ’ s quite a few years now since Mr. Raife gave up the town house and took a flat instead— o ne of those flats they call a service flat—but living in the country I ’ ve become used somehow to peace and quiet, and when we have visitors I feel as if our peace no longer exists. There ’ s always so much bustle and upset, and in a few days that ’ s what we shall have to put up with. ”
    Mallory glanced at her for explanation.
    “ Do you mean that Mr. Benedict will be bringing friends back with him when he returns? ”
    “ Miss Sonia Martingale, the ballet dancer, and possibly one or two others as well. Miss Martingale has been ill recently and ordered to rest. Mr. Raife is bringing her back by road. ” She paused. “ Of course, he is going on business as well, but ... I ’ ve been ordered to get the yellow guest chamber ready. The yellow guest chamber has been recently redecorated and furnished at great expense .. . ” The significance of this did not fail to sink into Mallory ’ s brain.
    “ Then Miss Martingale is rather a—particular friend of Mr. Benedict ’ s? ”
    “ I didn ’ t think so at one time, but it certainly does begin to look rather like it...!”

 
    CHAPTER FOUR
    M allory went upstairs slowly and found her way along the now slightly more familiar corridor to