It was just nine o'clock, and he walked rapidly to the Minthrops' and rang the bell. Outside an electric cab was waiting, its great lamps casting pathways of light across street and sidewalk. The motorman was inside; an indication that long waiting had driven him to shelter, though the circumstance had no significance to Stephen.

The bell was answered by the butler, who looked portentous and stood resolutely in the doorway. "Not at 'ome, sir," he said, in response to Stephen's request to see Mrs. Ponsonby.

"Then I must see Mr. Minthrop," French insisted. The man hesitated and then relaxed his wooden expression.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. French. I did not recognize you, sir.

The truth is, we're a bit h'upset h'inside. Mrs. Minthrop is tuk ill, sir-very sudden-and we're expecting the good word every minute.

I shall tell Mr. Minthrop you called." Stephen nodded and turned away-the fates had ordained that he was to carry his secret till the morning.