w," he said, "what does one do--pour it into this glass thing? I see.
Don't watch me, please; I'm nervous."

Molly uttered a curious little laugh that was not wholly steady.

"How did you come here?" she said.

He did not answer her till he had safely accomplished what he had
undertaken. Then he set down the saucepan and looked at her.

"I am staying with Lady Caryl," he told her gravely. "I arrived this
afternoon. And I have come here to present a humble offering to your
sister, and to make a suggestion equally humble to you. I arrived here in
this room by means of a process called bribery and corruption. But if you
are too busy to listen to me, I will wait."

"I can listen," Molly said.

He had not even shaken hands with her, and she felt strangely uncertain
of herself. She was even conscious of a childish desire to run away.

He took her at her word at once. "Thank you," he said. "Now, do you
remember a certain conversation that took place between us six months
ago?"

"I remember," she said.

An odd sense of powerlessness had taken possession of her, and she knew
it had become visible to him, for she saw his face alter.

"I know I'm ugly," he said, abruptly; "but I'm not frowning, believe me."

She understood the allusion and laughed rather faintly. "I'm not afraid
of you, Lord Wyverton," she said.

He smiled at her. "Thank you," he said. "That's kind. I'm coming to the
point. There are just two questions I have to ask you, and I've done.
First, have they told you that I'm a ruined man?"

Molly's face became troubled. "Yes," she said. "Lady Caryl told me. I was
very sorry--for you."

She uttered the last two words with a conscious effort. He was mastering
her in some subtle fashion, drawing her by some means irresistible. She
felt almost as if some occult force were at work upon her. He did not
thank her for her sympathy. Without comment he passed on to his second
question.

"And are you still disposed to be generous?" he asked her, with a
directness that surpassed her own. "Is your offer--that splendid offer of
yours--still open? Or have you changed your mind? You mustn't pity me
overmuch. I have enough to live on--enough for two"--he smiled again that
pleasant, sudden smile of his--"if you will do the cooking and polish the
front-door knob."

"What will you do?" demanded Molly, with a new-found independence of tone
that his light manner made possible.

"I shall clean the boots," he answered, pr