It became her business, however, some days later, when Mr. Calton was so much better that he could sit in a chair, or even lounge listlessly in the hall and corridor.  It so chanced that she was passing along the upper hall when she saw Frida’s pink cotton skirt disappear in an adjacent room, and heard her light laugh as the door closed.  But the room happened to be a card-room reserved exclusively for gentlemen’s poker or euchre parties, and the chambermaids had no business there.  Miss Trotter had no doubt that Mr. Calton was there, and that Frida knew it; but as this was an indiscretion so open, flagrant, and likely to be discovered by the first passing guest, she called to her sharply.  She was astonished, however, at the same moment to see Mr. Calton walking in the corridor at some distance from the room in question.  Indeed, she was so confounded that when Frida appeared from the room a little flurried, but with a certain audacity new to her, Miss Trotter withheld her rebuke, and sent her off on an imaginary errand, while she herself opened the card-room door.  It contained simply Mr. Bilson, her employer; his explanation was glaringly embarrassed and unreal!  Miss Trotter affected obliviousness, but was silent; perhaps she thought her employer was better able to take care of himself than Mr. Calton.

A week later this tension terminated by the return of Calton to Roanoke Ledge, a convalescent man.  A very pretty watch and chain afterward were received by Miss Trotter, with a few lines expressing the gratitude of the ex-patient.  Mr. Bilson was highly delighted, and frequently borrowed the watch to show to his guests as an advertisement of the healing powers of the Summit Hotel.  What Mr. Calton sent to the more attractive and flirtatious Frida did not as publicly appear, and possibly Mr. Bilson did not know it.  The incident of the cardroom was forgotten.  Since that discovery, Miss Trotter had felt herself debarred from taking the girl’s conduct into serious account, and it did not interfere with her work.

II

One afternoon Miss Trotter received a message that Mr. Calton desired a few moments’ private conversation with her.  A little curious, she had him shown into one of the sitting-rooms, but was surprised on entering to find that she was in the presence of an utter stranger!  This was explained by the visitor saying briefly that he was Chris’s elder brother, and that he presumed the name would be sufficient introduction.  Miss Trotter smiled doubtfully, for a more distinct opposite to Chris could not be conceived.  The stranger was apparently strong, practical, and masterful in all those qualities in which his brother was charmingly weak.  Miss Trotter, for no reason whatever, felt herself inclined to resent them.

“I reckon, Miss Trotter,” he said bluntly, “that you don’t know anything of this business that brings me here.  At least,” he hesitated, with a certain rough courtesy, “I should judge from your general style and gait that you wouldn’t have let it go on so far if you had, but the fact is, that darned fool brother of mine—­beg your pardon!—­has gone and got himself engaged to one of the girls that help here,—­a yellow-haired foreigner, called Frida Jansen.”