His back was rounded with study,
but otherwise he was as fine a looking man of his age--five-and-fifty
perhaps--as any woman would wish to look upon.

But his presence was not a cheerful one. He was always courteous,
always refined, but singularly silent and retiring. I have never lived
so long with any man and known so little of him. If he were indoors he
spent his time either in his own small study in the Eastern Tower, or
in the library in the modern wing. So regular was his routine that one
could always say at any hour exactly where he would be. Twice in the
day he would visit his study, once after breakfast, and once about ten
at night. You might set your watch by the slam of the heavy door. For
the rest of the day he would be in his library--save that for an hour
or two in the afternoon he would take a walk or a ride, which was
solitary like the rest of his existence. He loved his children, and
was keenly interested in the progress of their studies, but they were a
little awed by the silent, shaggy-browed figure, and they avoided him
as much as they could. Indeed, we all did that.

It was some time before I came to know anything about the circumstances
of Sir John Bollamore's life, for Mrs. Stevens, the housekeeper, and
Mr. Richards, the land-steward, were too loyal to talk easily of their
employer's affairs. As to the governess, she knew no more than I did,
and our common interest was one of the causes which drew us together.
At last, however, an incident occurred which led to a closer
acquaintance with Mr. Richards and a fuller knowledge of the life of
the man whom I served.

The immediate cause of this was no less than the falling of Master
Percy, the youngest of my pupils, into the mill-race, with imminent
danger both to his life and to mine, since I had to risk myself in
order to save him. Dripping and exhausted--for I was far more spent
than the child--I was making for my room when Sir John, who had heard
the hubbub, opened the door of his little study and asked me what was
the matter. I told him of the accident, but assured him that his child
was in no danger, while he listened with a rugged, immobile face, which
expressed in its intense eyes and tightened lips all the emotion which
he tried to conceal.

"One moment! Step in here! Let me have the details!" said he, turning
back through the open door.

And so I found myself within that little sanctum, inside which, as I
afterwards learne