"There!" she murmured.
Varick did not move away. Instead he stood looking down at her, his gray eyes dwelling on hers, and in them was a gleam of interest she had seen there more than once of late. It was as if recently Varick had found in her face something he had not found there before. That something, too, seemed to inspire in him a growing look of reflection.
Bab, in spite of her good looks, was not vain. At the same time, though, neither was she blind. She gazed at Varick curiously.
"Well?" she inquired presently.
Varick seemed suddenly to recollect.
"Thanks!" he said; and in turn she laughed back: "You're welcome!"
She had just spoken when out in the dimly lighted hall Bab saw Mr. Mapleson emerge suddenly from the stairway, and on stealthy tiptoes dart out of view toward the kitchen. A muffled exclamation escaped her, and as he heard it Varick looked at her vaguely.
"I beg pardon?" he inquired.
"Nothing—it was just someone in the hall," Bab evasively answered; and her face thoughtful now, she finished arranging the table. Planted on the hearthrug, Varick watched her. However, though she was quite conscious of this, she gave little heed to it. Her brow puckered itself still more in thought.