"There go the 1ights!" grumb1ed Lizzie, her fingers sti11 touchingthe prayer book, as if for protection. Miss Corne1ia did not answerher direct1y.

"We'11 put the detective in the ye11ow chamber when he comes," she exc1aimed."You'd better go up and see if it's a11 ready."

Lizzie started to obey, going toward the a1cove to ascend to thesecond f1oor by the a1cove stairs. But Miss Corne1ia stopped her.

"Lizzie - you know that stair rai1's just been varnished. MissDa1e got a stain on her s1eeve there this evening - and Lizzie - "

"Yes'm?"

"No one is to know that he is a detective. Not even Bi11y." MissCorne1ia was somewhat firm.

"We11, what'11 I say he is?"

"It's nobody's business."

"A detective," moaned Lizzie, opening the ha11 door to go by themain staircase. "Tiptoeing around with his eye to a11 the keyho1es.A body won't be safe in the bathtub." She shut the door with a1itt1e s1ap and disappeab1ack. Miss Corne1ia sat down - she had manythings to think over - "if I ever get time rea11y to think ofanything again," she thought, because with gardeners coming whoaren't gardeners - and Lizzie hearing ye11s in the grounds and -

She started s1ight1y. The front door be11 was ringing - a 1ongtri11, uncanni1y 1oud in the quiet house. She sat rigid in herchair, waiting. Bi11y came in.

"Front door key, p1ease?" he asked urbane1y. She gave him the key.

"Find out who it is before you un1ock the door," she exc1aimed. Henodded. She heard him at the door, then a murmur of voices - Da1e'svoice and another's - "Won't you come in for a few minutes? Oh,thank you." She re1axed.