come up—to save them," Mrs. Ryves went on. She added, moving away, that now she had saved them she must really go.
"To save them for what, if I mayn't break the seals?" Baron asked.
"I don't know—for a generous sacrifice."
"Why should it be generous? What's at stake?" Peter demanded, leaning against the doorpost as she stood on the landing.
"I don't know what, but I feel as if something or other were in peril. Burn them up!" she exclaimed with shining eyes.
"Ah, you ask too much—I'm so curious about them!"
"Well, I won't ask more than I ought, and I'm much obliged to you for your promise to be quiet. I trust to your discretion. Good-by."
"You ought to reward my discretion," said Baron, coming out to the landing. She had partly descended the staircase and she stopped, leaning against the baluster and smiling up at him. "Surely you've had your reward in the honour of my visit."
"That's delightful as far as it goes. But what will you do for me if I burn the papers?"
Mrs. Ryves considered a moment. "Burn them first and you'll see!"
On this she went rapidly downstairs, and Baron, to whom the answer appeared inadequate and the proposition indeed in that form grossly unfair,
