She would not have dreamed of explaining to Karen that she was thinking of putting a new lock on Stolz’s door. As it was now, the door was fastened by the primitive apparatus installed when the house was built—fifty years, she thought, if it was a day. She’d had a terrible time locating a key for it. For her own peace of mind, best to reinforce it with something new.

Her secrecy in regard to Stolz had had its origins in the breakup of his marriage to her daughter Margaret. Margaret, just out of school, had met and been attracted to the older, worldly man, and when the mother had met him she too had been charmed. The marriage had been brief, though ironically friendly. Margaret had met another man and Stolz had amiably stepped aside. Mrs. Havermann’s attitude had been incredulous. Compared to her own difficult, tempestuous marriage, Margaret’s had been ideal. She disliked the new son-in-law. She felt a deep disappointment over what she considered Margaret’s foolishness.

All this had happened a little over nine years ago, when her husband had brought Karen into their home. It had been the natural thing not to explain the involved situation to a child. Afterward, especially since Havermann’s death, the habit of secrecy had become a part of her withdrawal from normal communication. Stolz remained on friendly terms, visiting frequently, and now he was almost the only person besides Karen and the gardener whom Mrs. Havermann saw much of. Her mildly sentimental daydreams about him she kept entirely to herself.

The hints she had dropped to Karen, that Stolz might have money here, had been the result of a moment’s desire to brag, to let someone else see how much Stolz trusted her. Perhaps, too, to convince herself he might be as interested in her as she was in him.

When they had finished breakfast Karen cleared away the table and washed the dishes and the stove. Mrs. Havermann went into the front of the house and looked around. She had not forgotten her idea of giving the back yard a close inspection. She wanted to figure out a way to have Karen away from the rear of the house.

She could not quite pin down why she didn’t want Karen watching when she went outdoors. Certainly she felt no distrust of the girl.

Mrs. Havermann thought, Karen might think me a fool if she saw me out there staring at the ground. This summed it up for her, though there was something more she didn’t try to analyze.

She returned to the kitchen shortly. Karen was sweeping a few crumbs from the floor around the table. Mrs. Havermann said, “That reminds me, dear, I think the front hall could use the dust mop this morning. The wax is there; it just needs a good buffing. Use a little pressure.”

“Yes, Aunt Maude. What about flowers?”