SON OF THE WIND
"And suppose she won't answer?"
Rader shrugged, as who would say, "Then, that will be the end of it'
The young man laughed. The thing would not end as simply as all that. If Blanche Rader would not speak— His conjecture didn't get further, for he believed that she would. Rader was looking at him expectantly, as if he thought to see the question put to test on the instant. And why not? Now was a better time than any; and the scholar's eye, quizzical, hinting that perhaps the undertaking was a daunting one, put him on his mettle. He pulled his hat over his nose, ran up the steps, and turning to the right, walked quickly down the side piazza.
For an interval there was wall, without opening; and then began a series of low-set square windows, which "Janfer," in his celebrated "Folly," had ornamented with wooden cornices of acanthus. He passed the first, since it was covered with a curtain, the curtains to the second were drawn back, and from within he heard a sound like a large and much occupied bee. Broad noon made it hard to look into the house, but by stepping back to the railing, holding his hand over his eyes and tipping his head, he was able to see the room. The greater part of it was in shadow. Mrs. Rader's figure was barely distinguishable, back toward him, stooping above a ta-
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