"My daughter, you need rest," said Ah Ben gently, and at the same

moment a clock upon the stairs began striking eleven.

Dorothy opened her eyes and looked around.

"I must have fallen asleep!" she exclaimed quite naively.

She bade them each "Good night," and then started up the uncanny

stairs. Near the top she paused in the darkness, and looking over the

balustrade into the hall below, seemed to be waiting. Perhaps she was

not so completely in the shadow as she imagined, and perhaps Paul did

not see aright, but through the gloom he thought he caught the flash

of a diamond as it moved toward her lips and away again. If tempted

to return the salute, his better judgment prevailed, and while

holding the stem of his pipe in his right hand, pressed the tobacco

firmly into the bowl with his left. A troublesome thought presented

itself. Could this girl have entered into any kind of entanglement

with his namesake which would have demanded a tenderer attitude than

he had assumed toward her? Had he neglected opportunities and failed

to avail himself of privileges which he had unknowingly inherited?

For an instant the thought disturbed Mr. Henley's equilibrium, but a

moment's reflection convinced him that the idea was not worth

considering. Whatever it was he had seen upon the stairs he knew was

not intended for his eyes, even if it had been meant for himself.

"Shall we smoke another pipe?" said Ah Ben. "I'm something of an owl

myself, and shall sit here for quite a while before retiring."

Paul was glad of the opportunity, and accepted with alacrity. He

hoped in the quiet of a midnight conversation to discover something

about this peculiar man and his home. Perhaps he should also learn

something of the girl, her strange life, and the Guirs.

"We may not be so comfortable as we would be in our beds," continued

the elder man, "but there is a certain comfort in discomfort which

ought not to be undervalued. Sleep, to be enjoyed, should be

discouraged rather than courted."

"Yes," answered Paul, "I believe Shakespeare has told us something

about it in his famous soliloquy on that subject."

"True," replied Ah Ben, "and I suppose there is no one living who has

not felt the delusion of comfort. Like many other material blessings,

it is to be had only in pills."

Ah Ben had stretched his legs out toward the hearth, and while

passing his hand across his withered cheek, had closed his eyes in

reverie. The dim and uncertain shadows made the room seem like some

vast cavern, whose walls were mythical and whose recesses unexplored.

The lamp had expired to a single spark, and there was nothing to

reveal their presence to each other except the red glow from the

embers.




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