But all this was superficial. The Adamses, between themselves, decided that Miss Austin was more deeply mysterious than was shown by her disinclination to make friends. They concluded she was transacting important business of some sort, and that her sketching of the winter scenery, which she did every clear day, was merely a blind.
Though Mrs. Adams resented this, and urged her husband to send the girl packing, Old Salt demurred.
Shes done no harm as yet, he said. Shes a mystery, but not a wrong one, s fars I can make out. Let her alone, mother. Ive got my eye on her.
Ive got my two eyes on her, and I can see moren you can. Why, Salt, that girl dont hardly sleep at all. Night after night, she sits up looking out of the window, over toward the college buildings
How do you know?
I go and listen at her door, Mrs. Adams admitted, without embarrassment. I want to know what shes up to.
You cant see her.
No, but I hear her moving around restlessly, and putting the window up and down and Miss Bascom her rooms cornerways on the ell, she says she sees her looking out the window late at night most every night.
Miss Bascoms a meddling old maid, and Id put her out of this house before I would the little girl.
Of course you would! Youre all set up because she makes so much of you
Oh, come now, Esther, you cant say that child makes much of me! I wish she would. Ive taken a fancy to her.
Yes, because shes pretty in a gipsy, witch-like fashion. What men see in a pair of big black eyes, and a dark, sallow face, I dont know!
Not sallow, Old Salt said, reflectively; olive, rather but not sallow.
Oh you! exclaimed Mrs. Adams, and with that cryptic remark the subject was dropped.
Gordon Lockwood, secretary of John Waring, had a room at the Adams house. But as he took no meals there save his breakfasts, and as he ate those early, he had not yet met Anita Austin.
But one Saturday morning, he chanced to be late, and the two sat at table together.
An astute reader of humanity, Lockwood at once became interested in the girl, and realized that to win her attention he must not be eager or insistent.
He spoke only one or two of the merest commonplaces, until almost at the close of the meal, he said:
Can I do anything for you, Miss Austin? If you would care to hear any of the College lectures, I can arrange it.
Who are the speakers?
She turned her eyes fully upon him, and Gordon Lockwood marveled at their depth and beauty.
Tonight, he replied, Doctor Waring is to lecture on Egyptian Archaeology. Are you interested in that?
Yes, she said, very much so. Id like to go.
You certainly may, then. Just use this card.
He took a card from his pocket, scribbled a line across it, and gave it to her. Without another word, he finished his breakfast, and with a mere courteous bow, he left the room.
Miss Austins face took on a more scrutable look than ever.
The card still in her hand, she went up to her room. Unheeding the maid, who was at her duties there, the girl threw herself into a big chair and sat staring at the card.
The Egyptian Temples, she said to herself, Doctor John Waring.
The maid looked at her curiously as she murmured the words half aloud, but Miss Austin paid no heed.
Go on with your work, Nora, dont mind me, she said, at last, as the chambermaid paused inquiringly in front of her. I dont mind your being here until you finish what you have to do. And I wish youd bring me a Corinth paper, please? There is one, isnt there?
Oh, yes, maam. Twice a week.
Nora disappeared and returned with a paper.
Mr. Adams says you may have this to keep. Its the newest one.
The girl took it and turned to find the College announcements. The Egyptian Lecture was mentioned, and in another column was a short article regarding Doctor Waring and a picture of him.
Long the girl looked at the picture, and when the maid, her tasks completed, left the room, she noticed Miss Austin still staring at the fine face of the President-elect of the University of Corinth.
After a time, she reached for a pair of scissors, and cut out the portrait and the article which it illustrated.
She put the clipping in a portfolio, which she then locked in her trunk, and the picture she placed on her dresser.
That night she went to the lecture. She went alone, for Gordon Lockwood did not reappear and no one else knew of her going.
Shall I have a key, or will you be up? she asked of Mrs. Adams, as she left the house.
Oh, well be up. The round, shrewd eyes looked at her kindly. Youre lucky to get a ticket. Doctor Warings lectures are crowded.
Good night, said Miss Austin, and went away.
The lecture room was partly filled when she arrived, and her ticket entitled her to a seat near the front.
Being seated, she fell into a brown study, or, at least, sat motionless and apparently in deep thought.
Gordon Lockwood, already there, saw her come in, and after she was in her place, he quietly arose and went across the room, taking a seat directly behind her.
Of this she was quite unaware, and the student of human nature gave himself up to a scrutiny of the stranger.
He saw a little head, its mass of dark, almost black hair surmounted by a small turban shaped hat, of taupe colored velvet, with a curly ostrich tip nestling over one ear.
Not that her ears were visible, for Miss Austin was smartly groomed and her whole effect modish.
She had removed her coat, which she held in her lap. Her frock was taupe colored, of a soft woolen material, ornamented with many small buttons. These tiny buttons formed two rows down her back, from either shoulder to the waist line, and they also formed a border round the sailor collar.
They were, perhaps, Lockwood decided, little balls, rather than buttons, and he idly counted them as he sat watching her.
He hoped she would turn her head a trifle, but she sat as motionless as a human being may.
He marveled at her stillness, and impatiently waited for the lecture to begin that he might note her interest.
At last Doctor Waring appeared on the platform, and as the applause resounded all over the room, Lockwood was almost startled to observe Miss Austins actions.
She clasped her hands together as if she had received a sudden shock. She if it hadnt seemed too absurd, he would have said that she trembled. At any rate she was a little agitated, and it was with an effort that she preserved her calm. No one else noticed her, and Lockwood would not have done so, save for his close watching.
Throughout the lecture, Miss Austins gaze seemed never to leave the face of the speaker, and Lockwood marveled that Waring himself was not drawn to notice her.
But Warings calm gaze, though it traveled over the audience, never rested definitely on any one face, and Lockwood concluded he recognized nobody.
Miss Mystery! Gordon Lockwood said to himself. I wonder who and what you are. Probably a complex nature, psychic and imaginative. You think it interesting to come up here and pretend to be a mystery. But youre too young and too innocent to be Im not so sure of the innocent, though, and as to youth, well, I dont believe youre much older than you look any way. And youre confoundedly pretty beautiful, rather. Youve too much in your face to call it merely pretty. Ive never seen such possibilities of character. Youre either a deep one or your looks belie you.