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g cheerfully at whoever entered。 The walls were hung with prints； judiciously chosen and arranged。 Through a window to the left； healthfully open at the bottom； the sun streamed in； bringing with it the pleasantly subdued whirring of automobiles out on the Drive。 At a desk at right angles to this window； her vivid red…gold hair rippling in the breeze from the river； sat the girl who had been working at the typewriter。 She turned as Mr。 Pett entered； and smiled over her shoulder。
Ann Chester； Mr。 Pett's niece； looked her best when she smiled。 Although her hair was the most obviously striking feature of her appearance； her mouth was really the most individual thing about her。 It was a mouth that suggested adventurous possibilities。 In repose； it had a look of having just finished saying something humorous； a kind of demure appreciation of itself。 When it smiled； a row of white teeth flashed out： or； if the lips did not part； a dimple appeared on the right cheek； giving the whole face an air of mischievous geniality。 It was an enterprising； swashbuckling sort of mouth； the mouth of one who would lead forlorn hopes with a jest or plot whimsically lawless conspiracies against convention。 In its corners and in the firm line of the chin beneath it there lurked； too； more than a hint of imperiousness。 A physiognomist would have gathered； correctly； that Ann Chester liked having her own way and was accustomed to get it。
〃Hello； uncle Peter；〃 she said。 〃What's the trouble？〃
〃Am I interrupting you； Ann？〃
〃Not a bit。 I'm only copying out a story for aunt Nesta。 I promised her I would。 Would you like to hear some of it？〃
Mr。 Pett said he would not。
〃You're missing a good thing；〃 said Ann； turning the pages。 〃I'm all worked up over it。 It's called 'At Dead of Night；' and it's full of crime and everything。 You would never think aunt Nesta had such a feverish imagination。 There are detectives and kidnappers in it and all sorts of luxuries。 I suppose it's the effect of reading it； but you look to me as if you were trailing something。 You've got a sort of purposeful air。〃
Mr。 Pett's amiable face writhed into what was intended to be a bitter smile。
〃I'm only trailing a quiet place to read in。 I never saw such a place as this house。 It looks big enough outside for a regiment。 Yet； when you're inside； there's a poet or something in every room。〃
〃What about the library？ Isn't that sacred to you？〃
〃The boy Ogden's there。〃
〃What a shame！〃
〃Wallowing in my best chair；〃 said Mr。 Pett morosely。 〃Smoking cigarettes。〃
〃Smoking？ I thought he had promised aunt Nesta he wouldn't smoke。〃
〃Well； he said he wasn't； of course； but I know he had been。 I don't know what to do with that boy。 It's no good my talking to him。 Hehe patronises me！〃 concluded Mr。 Pett indignantly。 〃Sits there on his shoulder blades with his feet on the table and talks to me with his mouth full of candy as if I were his grandson。〃
〃Little brute。〃
Ann was sorry for Mr。 Pett。 For many years now； ever since the death of her mother； they had been inseparable。 Her father； who was a traveller； explorer； big…game hunter； and general sojourner in the lonelier and wilder spots of the world and paid only infrequent visits to New York； had left her almost entirely in Mr。 Pett's care； and all her pleasantest memories were associated with him。 Mr。 Chester's was in many ways an admirable character； but not a domestic one； and his relations with his daughter were confined for the most part to letters and presents。 In the past few years she had e almost to regard Mr。 Pett in the light of a father。 Hers was a nature swiftly responsive to kindness； and because Mr。 Pett besides being kind was also pathetic she pitied as well as loved him。 There was a lingering boyishness in the financier； the boyishness of the boy who muddles along in an unsympathetic world and can never do anything right： and this quality called aloud to the youth in her。 She was at the valiant age when we burn to right wrongs and succour the oppressed； and wild rebel schemes for the reformation of her small world came readily to her。 From the first she had been a smouldering spectator of the trials of her uncle's married life； and if Mr。 Pett had ever asked her advice and bound himself to act on it he would have solved his domestic troubles in explosive fashion。 For Ann in her moments of maiden meditation had frequently devised schemes to that end which would have made his grey hair stand erect with horror。
〃I've seen a good many boys；〃 she said； 〃but Ogden is in a class by himself。 He ought to be sent to a strict boarding…school； of course。〃
〃He ought to be sent to Sing…Sing；〃 amended Mr。 Pett。
〃Why don't you send him to school？〃
〃Your aunt wouldn't hear of it。 She's afraid of his being kidnapped。 It happened last time he went to school。 You can't blame her for wanting to keep her eye on him after that。〃
Ann ran her fingers meditatively over the keys。
〃I've sometimes thought 。 。 。〃
〃Yes？〃
〃Oh； nothing。 I must get on with this thing for aunt Nesta。〃
Mr。 Pett placed the bulk of the Sunday paper on the floor beside him； and began to run an appreciative eye over the ic supplement。 That lingering boyishness in him which endeared him to Ann always led him to open his Sabbath reading in this fashion。 Grey…headed though he was； he still retained both in art and in real life a taste for the slapstick。 No one had ever known the pure pleasure it had given him when Raymond Green； his wife's novelist protege； had tripped over a loose stair…rod one morning and fallen an entire flight。
From some point farther down the corridor came a muffled thudding。 Ann stopped her work to listen。
〃There's Jerry Mitchell punching the bag。〃
〃Eh？〃 said Mr。 Pett。
〃I only said I could hear Jerry Mitchell in the gymnasium。〃
〃Yes； he's there。〃
Ann looked out of the window thoughtfully for a moment。 Then she swung round in her swivel…chair。
〃Uncle Peter。〃
Mr。 Pett emerged slowly from the ic supplement。
〃Eh？〃
〃Did Jerry Mitchell ever tell you about that friend of his who keeps a dogs' hospital down on Long Island somewhere？ I forget his name。 Smithers or Smethurst or something。 Peopleold ladies； you know； and peoplebring him their dogs to be cured when they get sick。 He has an infallible remedy； Jerry tells me。 He makes a lot of money at it。〃
〃Money？〃 Pett； the student； became Pett； the financier； at the magic word。 〃There might be something in that if one got behind it。 Dogs are fashionable。 There would be a market for a really good medicine。〃
〃I'm afraid you couldn't put Mr。 Smethurst's remedy on the market。 It only works when the dog has been overeating himself and not taking any exercise。〃
〃Well； that's all these fancy dogs ever have the matter with them。 It looks to me as if I might do business with this man。 I'll get his address from Mitchell。〃
〃It's no use thinking of it； uncle Peter。 You couldn't do business with himin that way。 All Mr。 Smethurst does when any one brings him a fat； unhealthy dog is to feed it next to nothingjust the simplest kind of food； you knowand make it run about a lot。 And in about a week the dog's as well and happy and nice as he can possibly be。〃
〃Oh；〃 said Mr。 Pett； disappointed。
Ann touched the keys of her machine softly。
〃Why I mentioned Mr。 Smethurst；〃 she said； 〃it was because we had been talking of Ogden。 Don't you think his treatment would be just what Ogden needs？〃
Mr。 Pett's eyes gleamed。
〃It's a shame he can't have a week or two of it！〃
Ann played a little tune with her finger…tips on the desk。
〃It would do him good； wouldn't it？〃
Silence fell upon the room； broken only by the tapping of the typewriter。 Mr。 Pett； having finished the ic supplement； turned to the sporting section； for he was a baseball fan of no lukewarm order。 The claims of business did not permit him to see as many games as he could wish； but he followed the national pastime closely on the printed page and had an admiration for the Napoleonic gifts of Mr。 McGraw which would have gratified that gentleman had he known of it。
〃Uncle Peter；〃 said Ann； turning round again。
〃Eh？〃
〃It's funny you should have been talking about Ogden getting kidnapped。 This story of aunt Nesta's is all about an angel…childI suppose it's meant to be Ogdenbeing stolen and hidden and all that。 It's odd that she should write stories like this。 You wouldn't expect it of her。〃
〃Your aunt；〃 said Mr。 Pett； 〃lets her mind run on that sort of thing a good deal。 She tells me there was a time； not so long ago； when half the kidnappers in America were after him。 She sent him to school in Englandor； rather； her husband did。 They were separated thenand； as far as I can follow the story； they all took the next boat and besieged the place。〃
〃It's a pity somebody doesn't smuggle him away now and keep him till he's a better boy。〃
〃Ah！〃 said Mr。 Pett wistfully。
Ann looked at him fixedly； but his eyes were once more on his paper。 She gave a little sigh； and turned to her work again。
〃It's quite demoralising； typing aunt Nesta's stories；〃 she said。 〃They put ideas into one's head。〃
Mr。 Pett said nothing。 He was reading an article of medical interest in the ma