“You’re a dear, dear fool!” said Mary softly.

“And you’re a dear, dear another!” softly said Jack.

(Outrageous fools, both! agreed Mrs. De Peyster.)

They were still gazing at each other when in the wide doorway at their back appeared Matilda, carrying the tray of tea-things that had been in Mrs. De Peyster’s sitting-room.  For the last few moments Mrs. De Peyster’s danger had been forgotten in her indignation.  But at sight of Matilda, regained its own.

Matilda stopped short.  The tea-things almost rattled from the tray.  Jack wheeled about.

“Hello, Matilda.  Thought you’d gone down to the kitchen.”

“Why—­why—­if it isn’t Mr. Jack!” stammered Matilda.

Mrs. De Peyster trembled.  What more likely than that Matilda, in her amazement, should reveal the house’s secret?  But the half-light of the room was a very obliging ally against such unsuspicion as her son’s.

“Of course, it’s Jack,” said he.  “Who else did you suppose it was?  But say, what’s the matter, Matilda?”

“Yes, what’s the matter, Matilda?” asked Mary with great concern.

“Ma’am—­ma’am”—­staring wildly at Mary—­“I—­I don’t know, ma’am.”

“What, have you already forgotten what I told you about calling me Mary!”

“Ma—­Mary?” gasped Matilda blankly.

“Jack,” said Mary in a low voice, “I said awhile ago that she seemed queer.”

“Where have you put your head, Matilda?  Yes—­Mary!—­Mary!—­Mary!  Mary De Peyster—­Mrs. Jack De Peyster—­my wedded wife—­whom it cost me four thirty-nine to make my own.  Understand?”

“P-per-perfectly, Mr. Jack.”

“Well, that’s happy news.  What’s that you’re carrying?”

“It’s—­ah—­er—­my breakfast,” explained Matilda.

“Your breakfast!” exclaimed Jack.  “What are you doing with it here?”

“I was—­I was—­er—­was going to—­to get it all ready to—­to take up to myself to-morrow.”

Jack took the tray from Matilda’s nerveless hands.

[Illustration:  “WHAT’S THAT YOU’RE CARRYING?”]

“Sit down, Matilda,” firmly pressing her into a chair.  “Mary, have you some salts in that bag.”

“Yes, Jack.”  In an instant Mary had a bottle from her bag and was holding it beneath Matilda’s nose.  “You’ll be all right in just a moment.  Take it easy.  The surprise must have been too much for you.  For it was a big surprise, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Matilda, for the first time speaking with no hesitancy.

“Matilda, it’s almost provoking the way you ignore my request to call me Mary.”

“Ah—­er—­” staring wildly—­“yes, Mary.”

Jack moved to the wall near the door, where were several buttons.

“Mary, I’m going to ring for William—­we’d better take him into this thing straight off, or he may stumble on the fact that extra people are in the house and call in the police.”