ou are young. I liked you as soon as I
saw you yesterday. The duties for which I require a secretary are
light. It is chiefly to be near me when I want you. I have my little
estates in the South, in the Bourbonnais, and near to Orleans. I
require some one to correspond with my agents, to travel perhaps to my
lands when a question arises which the bailiffs cannot settle
unaided."

Thus he spoke for some time, and my duties, as he detailed them,
sounded astonishingly light. Indeed, he paused occasionally as if
seeking to augment them by the addition of trivial household tasks.

"Madame, the Vicomtesse," he said, "will also be glad to avail herself
of your services."

The existence of this lady was thus made known to me for the first
time. I have wondered since why, in this conversation, we with one
accord ignored the first question in such affairs--namely, the salary
paid by Monsieur to his secretary.

"I should require you," he said finally, "to live in the Hotel Clericy
while we are in Paris."

Some years earlier, during a hunting expedition in Africa, I had
stalked a lion all night and far into the following day. On finally
obtaining a sight of my prey, I found him old, disease-stricken and
half-blind. The feelings of that moment I have never forgotten. A
sensation near akin to it--a sort of shame attaching to a pursuit
unworthy of a sportsman--came to me again now, when I was told that I
might live under the roof that sheltered Mademoiselle de Clericy.

"You hesitate," said the Vicomte. "I am afraid it is an essential. I
must have you always at hand."

Chapter III

Madame

"En paroles ou en actions, etre discret, c'est s'abstenir."

It is to be presumed that the reader knows the usual result of such a
tussle with the conscience as that upon which I now entered. At
various turning points in a chequered career I have met my conscience
thus face to face, and am honest enough to confess that the victory
has not always fallen to that ghostly monitor.

After favouring me with his ultimatum, the Vicomte looked at me
expectantly. I thought of Mademoiselle de Clericy's presence in that
old house. Who was I to turn my back on the good things that the gods
gave me? I hate your timid man who looks behind him on an unknown
road.

"As Monsieur wills," I said, and with a sigh, almost of relief I
thought, my companion rose.

"We will seek the Vicomtesse," he said. "My wife will have pleasure in
making