ay, that these things should so little affect him.
His blood ran no less coldly, nor did his pulses beat the faster, for
this backward glance into things finished.

There was a knock at the door. He raised his head.

"Come in!"

A slim, fair young man obeyed the summons, and advanced into the room.
Wingrave eyed him with immovable face. Nevertheless, his manner somehow
suggested a displeased surprise.

"Sir Wingrave Seton, I believe?" the intruder said cheerfully.

"That is my name," Wingrave admitted; "but my orders below have
evidently been disobeyed. I am not disposed to receive visitors today."

The intruder was not in the least abashed. He laid his hat upon the
table, and felt in his pocket.

"I am very sorry," he said. "They did try to keep me out, but I told
them that my business was urgent. I have been a journalist, you see, and
am used to these little maneuvers."

Wingrave looked at him steadily, with close-drawn eyebrows.

"Am I to understand," he said "that you are in here in your journalistic
capacity?"

The newcomer shook his head.

"Pray do not think," he said, "that I should be guilty of such an
impertinence. My name is Aynesworth. Walter Aynesworth. I have a letter
for you from Lovell. You remember him, I daresay. Here it is!"

He produced it from his breast coat pocket, and handed it over.

"Where is Lovell?" Wingrave asked.

"He left for the East early this morning," Aynesworth answered. "He had
to go almost at an hour's notice."

Wingrave broke the seal, and read the letter through. Afterwards he tore
it into small pieces and threw them into the grate.

"What do you want with me, Mr. Aynesworth?" he asked.

"I want to be your secretary," Aynesworth answered.

"My secretary," Wingrave repeated. "I am much obliged to you, but I am
not requiring anyone in that capacity."

"Pardon me," Aynesworth answered, "but I think you are. You may not have
realized it yet, but if you will consider the matter carefully, I think
you will agree with me that a secretary, or companion of some sort, is
exactly what you do need."

"Out of curiosity," Wingrave remarked, "I should be glad to know why you
think so."

"Certainly," Aynesworth answered. "In the first place, I know the story
of your life, and the unfortunate incident which has kept you out of
society for the last ten years."

"From Lovell, I presume," Wingrave interrupted.

"Precisely," Aynesworth admitted. "Ten years' absence from Eng