“Yes?” said Miss Silver. “What interests, Miss Treherne?”

“You know the name of Rollo Treherne?”

“Ah,” said Miss Silver-“the Rollo Treherne Homes. Yes, indeed. You are associated with those Homes?”

“I am Rollo Treherne’s daughter. He made an immense fortune in America -you probably know that-and he left it to me as a trust to administer. He died seventeen years ago. It has kept me very busy.”

“The Homes were your own idea?”

Rachel Treherne hesitated.

“I think so. I had an old governess-we were all very fond of her. She made me feel how unfair it was that people like her should work for others all their lives and then have a bitterly poor old age. When I had to consider what I was to do with all this money I thought about Miss Barker, and that gave me the idea of the Treherne Homes.”

“You devoted the whole of your father’s fortune to the Homes?”

“Oh, no-I don’t want you to think that. There were certain sums I could touch, but a great deal of the capital was tied up-rather curiously tied up.” She paused, and her voice changed. “I could leave it by will, but I couldn’t give it away. It is a little difficult to explain. Legally I have entire discretion, but actually I am bound by my father’s wishes. That is why he left all the money to me-he knew that he could trust me to consider myself bound.”

Miss Silver’s eyes lifted again. She looked for a moment at Rollo Treherne’s daughter. Width of brow under the dark hair; eyes widely set; nostrils very sensitive; lips pressed together for control, but not thin-no, a good mouth, generously cut and meant to smile; chin firm. She thought she knew why this woman had been burdened with wealth. Just because it would be a burden to her, and not a toy. She said,