“Admiral, I’m afraid there has been a mistake, and before we go any further I’ll be glad to explain.  I’m not a private secretary and never have been one.  I should be less familiar with the work than a Chinaman.  I am a special writer for the magazines, and have been at odd times a war correspondent.”  And then he went on to describe the little comedy of the statuettes, and it was not without some charm in the telling.

Plainly the admiral was nonplussed.  That girl; that minx, with her innocent eyes and placid face!  He got up, and Fitzgerald awaited the explosion.  His expectancy missed fire.  The admiral exploded, but with laughter.

“I beg pardon, Mr. Fitzgerald, and I beg it again on my daughter’s behalf.  What would you do in my place?”

“Show me the door at once and have done with it.”

“I’m hanged if I do!  You shall have a toddy for your pains, and, by cracky, Laura shall mix it.”  He pushed the butler’s bell.  “Tell Miss Laura that I wish to see her at once.”

“Very well, sir.”

She appeared shortly.  If Fitzgerald admired her beauty he yet more admired her perfect poise and unconcern.  Many another woman would have evinced some embarrassment.  Not she.

“Laura, what’s the meaning of this hoax?” the admiral demanded sternly.  “Mr. Fitzgerald tells me that he had no idea you were hiring him as my secretary.”

“I am sure he hadn’t the slightest.”  The look she sent Fitzgerald was full of approval.  “He hadn’t any idea at all save that I asked him to come here at eight this evening.  And his confession proves that I haven’t made any mistake.”

“But what in thunder—­”

“Father!”

“My dear, give me credit for resisting the desire to make the term stronger.  Mr. Fitzgerald’s joke, I take it, bothered no one.  Yours has put him in a peculiar embarrassment.  What does it mean?  You went to the city to get me a first-class secretary.”

“Mr. Fitzgerald has the making of one, I believe.”

“But on your word I sent a capable man away half an hour gone.  He could speak half a dozen languages.”

“Mr. Fitzgerald is, perhaps, as efficient.”

Fitzgerald’s wonder grew and grew.

“But he doesn’t want to be a secretary.  He doesn’t know anything about the work.  And I haven’t got the time to teach him, even if he wanted the place.”

“Father,” began the girl, the fun leaving her eyes and her lips becoming grave, “I do not like the noises at night.  I have not suggested the police, because robbery is not the motive.”

“Laura, that’s all tommyrot.  This is an old house, and the wood always creaks with a change of temperature.  But this doesn’t seem to touch Mr. Fitzgerald.”

The girl shrugged.

“Well, I’m glad I told that German chap not to leave till he heard again from me.  I’ll hire him.  He looks like a man who wouldn’t let noises worry him.  You will find your noises are entirely those of imagination.”