"Come along, Patsy; it's this way." Willing Square was not very big, but it was beautiful with flowers and well tended and 3708 proved to be a handsome building with a white marble front, situated directly on a corner.

The Major examined it critically from the sidewalk, and decided it contained six suites of apartments, three on each side.
"D must be the second floor to the right." he said, "and that's a fine location, sure enough." A porter appeared at the front door, which stood open, and examined the group upon the sidewalk with evident curiosity.
Patsy walked up to him, and ignoring the big gold figures over the entrance she enquired: "Is this 3708 Willing Square ?" "Yes, Miss," answered the porter; "are you Miss Doyle ?" "I am," she answered, surprised.
"One flight up, Miss, and turn to the right," he continued, promptly; and then he winked over the girl's head at Uncle John, who frowned so terribly that the man drew aside and disappeared abruptly.

The Major and Patsy were staring at one another, however, and did not see this by-play.
"Let's go up," said the Major, in a husky voice, and proceeded to mount the stairs.
Patsy followed close behind, and then came Uncle John.

One flight up they paused at a door marked "D", upon the panel of which was a rack bearing a card printed with the word "Doyle." "Well, well!" gasped the Major.

"Who'd have thought it, at all at all!" Patsy, with trembling fingers, put a key in the lock, and after one or two efforts opened the door.
The sun was shining brilliantly into a tiny reception hall, furnished most luxuriously.
The Major placed his hat on the rack, and Uncle John followed suit.
No one spoke a word as they marched in humble procession into the living-room, their feet pressing without sound into the thick rugs.
Everything here was fresh and new, but selected with excellent taste and careful attention to detail.