“For several reasons,” said Brice, coolly.  “In the first place, I had brought home your dog.  In the second, I had taken a fancy to him, as he had to me, and it would be pleasant working at a place where I could be with such a chum.  In the third place, Miss Standish was kind enough to say pretty much the same things about me that you’ve just said.  She knew I wasn’t a tramp, who might be expected to decamp with the lawn-mower or the spoons.  Another landowner might not have been so complimentary, when I applied for work and had no references.  In the fourth, you seem to have a larger and more pretentious place here than most of your near neighbors.  I—­I can’t think of any better reasons, just now.”

“H’m!” mused Standish, frowning down on the recumbent man, and then looking across in perplexity at Claire.

What he read in the girl’s eyes seemed to shame him, just a little.  For, as he turned back to Gavin, there was an apologetic aspect on his bearded face.  Brice decided to force the playing.  Before his host could speak or Claire could interfere, he rose to a sitting position, with some effort and more pain, and, clutching the head of the couch, lurched to his feet.

“No, no!” called Claire, running forward to support him as he swayed a bit.  “Don’t try to stand!  Lie down again!  You’re as white as a ghost.”

But Gavin drew courteously away from her supporting arm and faced Milo.

“I can only thank you,” said he, “for patching me up so well.  I’m a lot better, now.  And I’ve a long way to go.  So, I’ll be starting.  Thanks, again, both of you.  I’m sorry to have put you to so much bother.”  He reeled, cleverly, caught at the couch-head again, and took an uncertain step toward the door.  But now, not only Claire but her brother barred his way.

“Don’t be an idiot!” stormed Milo.  “Why, man, you couldn’t walk a hundred yards, with that groggy head on your shoulders!  You’re all beaten up.  You’ll be lucky if you’re on your feet in another three days.  What sort of cur do you think I am, to let you go like this, after all you’ve done for me, to-night?  You’ll stay with us till to-morrow, anyhow.  And then, if you still insist on going back to Miami, I’ll take you there in the car.  But you’re not going a step from here, to-night.  I—­”

Gavin strove to mutter a word of disclaimer, to take another wavering stride toward the front door.  But his knees gave away under him.  He swayed forward, and must have fallen, had not Milo Standish caught him.

“Here,” Milo bade his sister, as he laid the limp body back on the couch.  “Go and tell the maids to get the gray room ready as quickly as possible.  I’ll carry him up there.  It was rotten of me to go on catechizing him, like that, and letting him see he was unwelcome.  But for him, I’d be—­”

“Yes,” answered Claire, over her shoulder, as she hurried on her errand.  “It was ‘rotten.’  And more than that.  I kept trying to signal you to stop.  You’ll you’ll give him work, here, won’t you, please?”