dered if he had been watching me from the windows, and asking himself what in the name of heaven was coming now. But he wasn't at home. Eliza who came to the door explained that Dr. Maynard had gone out horseback riding, but wouldn't I come in and wait?
I thanked Eliza—I'd never been inside Dr. Maynard's house before—and entered the hall. She showed me into a big square room at the left, and told me to sit down.
"I won't stop, I think," I said. "I'll just leave this. It's a Christmas present for Dr. Maynard. Don't tell him who left it. There's a card inside."
"I'll lay it right here on his desk," said Eliza, grinning with pleasure.
She'd no sooner put my bundle down than I heard the clatter of horse's hoofs on the hard driveway outside.
"I believe he's coming," I exclaimed. "How lucky! I'll wait."
After Eliza had gone back to the kitchen and I was alone, I gazed about the room. It was a dark, dull room with bronze-coloured walls. Low, black walnut bookcases were built in around two sides, and over them hung two solitary pictures—steel engravings of battle scenes. There were several huge leather armchairs, and a bare leather couch in one corner. There wasn't a single sofa-pillow on it. I didn't believe Dr. Maynard liked sofa-pillows after all. Everything was so big and dark and stiff in that room, I was afraid a pillow would look out of place. I walked over to Dr. Maynard's desk. It was just like the room—nothing pretty on it—a book or two, a
