Neither noted him.

The cuckoo-clock was chirping out its five small notes from the cheerful interior, and the Curator was remarking upon it.
"That's a merry sound both sweet and stimulating; and what is still better, I can hear it without effort.

I believe I should like to have a clock of that kind." "It goes where I go," muttered its strange owner with what seemed an involuntary emphasis.

Then as the Curator turned upon him in some surprise, he added with studied indifference: "I brought it from Switzerland when I was younger than I am now--a silly memento, but I fancy it." A commonplace explanation surely; why, then, did that same workman, who had stopped short after rounding the corner to pick up something which he as quickly threw down, turn a quick head and listen eagerly for what might be said next.

Nothing came of it, for the veranda door was near and the two gentlemen had stepped in; but to one who knew Sweetwater, the smile with which he resumed his work had an element in it which, if seen, would have darkened still further the gloom in the troubled eye of the speaker.
Switzerland! He had said Switzerland.
It was not long after this that the Curator and his host left for New York.
The house was not quite ready for occupancy, but was in the process of being made so by the woman who had done duty as housekeeper for Mr.
Roberts both before his marriage and since his wife's death.