Jane saw them; she was at the door.
"Good evening!" said Hilton with bitterness.
"In accordance with your orders, ma'am, I persuaded this gentleman to call," said Beal, almost humbly. "I'll feed his horse and return later."
He turned and hurried up the path.
Hilton pulled down his coat sleeves irritably and looked at Jane with a bitter smile.
"To what do I owe the ... the honor of such a summons?"
"Come in, Dick. I want to talk to you,"—keeping her voice and expression steady. She held the door open to him and he entered, his mouth drawn down in a sardonic grimace. A single shaded lamp was lighted and as she turned to him she could see his eyes glittering balefully in the semi-darkness.
"Rather different from our last meeting," he said testily. "Then you were concerned with my going; now you seem determined to have me here."
"Let's not discuss the past, Dick. I called you here for a definite purpose. Can you guess what it is?"
He eyed her in hostile speculation.