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 Ambrose wondered if this meant that Miss Six were asleep. At any rate he didn't know the way and he shook his head to this effect.

I'll be after sending one of the boys with you to show you, the starter announced, and happy Miss Six will be to see a handsome gentleman like yourself.

Ambrose blushed as the bellboy led the way briskly under the vine-clad pergola, down the walk to the bungalow designated as Siesta. In answer to a tap on the screen-door a maid invited Ambrose to enter.

Mr. Deacon? she inquired, and to his assent replied, Miss Six will be ready in just a moment.

Ambrose, despite his trepidation, could not resist the winning charm of the room with its light French furniture and its toile de Jouy hangings. Bright sunlight poured through the windows and glittered on the polished surface of a copper bowl filled with yellow roses.

Presently a short, slender woman with masses of brown hair coiled about her head entered. Her expression was so completely friendly that Ambrose somehow felt at home with her at once.

She introduced herself: I am Auburn's mother.

Ambrose met her hand.