As he stood just outside the reception-room he glanced up the broad stairs carelessly, thinking of the two ladies to whom he had spoken. He smiled to himself, wondering if they had yet come down. While he was watching, he saw a woman at the top of the stairs, looking over the rail. A second glance showed her to be a servant. She descended slowly, and, in a moment, beckoned stealthily. He paid no attention.
She came nearer, and, finally, seeing no one with him, called out to him in a whisper. It was Lucie, Mrs. Maxwell's maid. The moment Granthope recognized her, he walked into the parlors again, as if he had not noticed her.
Soon after that he paid his farewell amenities to his hostess and went up to where he had left his hat and coat. Lucie was in the upper hall waiting for him.
"Mr. Granthope," she whispered, "may I speak to you a moment? I have something."
"Not now," he said, passing on.
She plucked at his sleeve. "I've got a great story," she insisted.
He shook his head.
"Shall I come down to your office?"
"Be quiet!" he said under his breath, and went in for his things.
She was waiting for him when he emerged.