"Oh! my dear--well, it may be an old-fashioned prejudice, I dare say it is--but I do not like actresses," sighed Miss Eliza. "It's all a matter of training," said Ralph Webster; "fancy Aunt Eliza on the stage!" "Oh, Ralph, how can you say such things?" said Miss Eliza, reproachfully. Ralph Webster laughed, and then the conversation changed. But before he left Pembridge Terrace for the night he took an opportunity of speaking to Miss Margaret Webster alone. "Aunt Margaret," he said, "what is Mr. John Temple like who married your pretty guest?" "Good-looking; yes, I should say very good-looking indeed," answered Miss Webster; "he has such a pleasant expression, and nice gray eyes." "Gray eyes," repeated Webster, thoughtfully; he was remembering Miss Kathleen Weir's description of her husband. "Yes, gray eyes with dark lashes. But Ralph, my dear, if you would like to see it, I have a photograph of him?" "I should like to see it," answered her nephew; and Miss Webster at once rose and produced her old-fashioned photograph book. "This is our dear father," she said, turning to one page, and pointing out a mild-faced old gentleman in clerical garb; "and this, Ralph, is your dear father--ah! looking at this book always makes me a little sad, and brings back old times." "Yes," said Ralph Webster, glancing somewhat impatiently at his grandfather and father; "but where is this wonderful Mr. Temple?" Miss Webster then turned over several more pages of her book; pages where she and Miss Eliza were represented as young girls, then as young women in costumes of other days. Finally, she pointed to the smiling, good-looking face of a young man. "This is Mr. John Temple," she said, "and is exactly like what he was when--he resided here; but he looks rather older now." "He is certainly good-looking," answered Webster, slowly, looking steadily at the face portrayed before him. "There is no doubt of that, and he has a very pleasant manner, and one can not wonder at his young wife being so much attached to him. There is only one thing I do not like; that I can not approve of." "You mean that the marriage was a secret one?" "Yes, and he made such a point of the secrecy. He said for both their sakes it must not be mentioned." "Perhaps he had good reason to keep it quiet," said Ralph Webster. "Oh! my dear, I hope not! Only he is afraid of his uncle's anger, I suppose." "Perhaps so," and then Ralph Webster shook hands with his aunt and went away; but as he walked down the quiet street he made up his mind to make further inquiries about Miss Kathleen Weir's husband. CHAPTER XXVII. AN OLD PHOTOGRAPH.