n the broad young shoulders.
Perhaps it was the changing light, or perhaps it was the shadow from his
uplifted hand on which he lightly leaned his head, that made his eyes
seem dark and troubled, and quite unlike their usual serene selves. As
Mr. Jefferson looked at the young man an uneasy thought took shape in
his mind that that face's cheerful expression had altered since it had
entered his doors, that the shadow of a change had somehow come upon it.

"A word more," said Calvert again, resting his foot upon one of the
burnished andirons, and removing his gaze from the flickering fire to
Mr. Jefferson's attentive face. "I believe that not in my letters, and
assuredly not since getting here, have I thanked you gratefully enough
for summoning me to you. 'Tis such an honor and a pleasure to be with
you, to work for you, that I cannot express myself as I would like, sir.
Indeed, I have long years of kindnesses, of interest, of affectionate
concern for my welfare, to thank you for. I do not think you can ever
know what all that means to one so entirely alone as I am and have been
almost since I could remember. 'Tis only in the last few years," he went
on, hurriedly, and lowering his hand still more over his serious eyes,
"that I have entirely realized what it is to be without kindred. I have
to thank you and a few other kind friends that the knowledge has been so
long withheld from me."

Mr. Jefferson looked at the young figure, with its unusual air of
sadness, bending over the firelight. Rising, he went over to him and
laid his hand on the young man's shoulder.

"There can be no question of thanks between us, Ned," he said at length,
simply. "I love you as though you were my son, and it is the greatest
pleasure to have you with me." And, indeed, it seemed so and as if he
could not do enough for his young secretary. And that night, when the
quiet dinner was over and they were ready to retire, he himself lighted
Calvert to his bed-chamber and left him with such an affectionate
good-night that the young man felt happier and more at home in that
strange house in Paris than though he had been at Strathore itself, with
no three thousand miles of vexed ocean between himself and Virginia.

CHAPTER VI

MR. CALVERT MEETS OLD AND NEW FRIENDS

The day after Calvert's arrival was a long and busy one for him. He was
closeted from morning until night with Mr. Jefferson, who explained to
him the many private affairs awaiting