“But I don’t know the answer!” he said miserably.  “I—­I assure you, I’m absolutely in the dark.  I don’t know what’s in the letter.  I—­I haven’t always done what I should, I dare say, but my conduct in the state of Ohio during the last few weeks has been without stain—­unless I’ve forgotten—­but if it had been anything very heinous, I’d remember, don’t you think?”

Somebody crossed the room, and a paper rustled.

“Read that!” said Miss Patty’s voice.  And then silence for a minute.

“Good lord!” exclaimed Mr. Pierce.

“Do you deny that?”

“Absolutely!” he said firmly.  “I—­I have never even heard of the Reverend Dwight Johnstone—­”

There was a scream from Mrs. Hutchins, and a creak as she fell into her chair again.

“Your father!” she said, over and over.  “What can we say to your father?”

“And that is all you will say?” demanded Miss Patty scornfully. “’You don’t know;’ ‘there’s a mistake;’ ‘you never saw the letter before!’ Oh, if I were only a man!”

“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” Mr. Pierce said, with something like hope in his voice.  “We’ll send for Mr. Van Alstyne!  That’s the thing, of course.  I’ll send for—­er—­Jim.”

Mr. Van Alstyne’s name is Sam, but nobody noticed.

“Mr. Van Alstyne!” repeated Miss Patty in a dazed way.

I guessed it was about time to make a diversion, so I knocked and walked in with the tray, and they all glared at me.  Mrs. Hutchins was collapsed in a chair, holding a wet handkerchief to her eyes, and one side of her cap was loose and hanging down.  Miss Patty was standing by a table, white and angry, and Mr. Pierce was about a yard from her, with the letter in his hands.  But he was looking at her.

“I’ve brought your supper, Mr. Carter,” I began.  Then I stopped and stared at Miss Patty and Mrs. Hutchins.  “Oh,” I said.

“Thank you,” said Mr. Pierce, very uncomfortable.  “Just put it down anywhere.”

I stalked across the room and put it on the table.  Then I turned and looked at Mrs. Hutchins.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “but it’s one of the rules of this house that guests don’t come to these rooms.  They’re strictly private.  It isn’t my rule, ladies, but if you will step down to the parlor—­”

Mrs. Hutchins’ face turned purple.  She got up in a hurry.

“I’m here with Miss Jennings on a purely personal matter,” she said furiously.  “How dare you turn us out?”

“Nonsense, Minnie!” said Miss Patty.  “I’ll go when I’m ready.”

“Rule of the house,” I remarked, and going over to the door I stood holding it open.  There wasn’t any such rule, but I had to get them out; they had Mr. Pierce driven into a corner and yelling for help.

“There is no such rule and you know it, Minnie!” Miss Patty said angrily.  “Come, Nana!  We’re not learning anything, and there’s nothing to be done until morning, anyhow.  My head’s whirling.”