For two days Nora continued to wrestle with the typewriter, and on the third something happened which ultimately resulted in another upheaval of the world for her. She had found the "document" which she had to copy--it was one of those which Mr. Hooper had discovered stuffed up the chimney--not easy to decipher, which perhaps was not surprising; she was puzzling over a part of it which seemed even worse than usual when the office door was opened, and a masculine person came striding in who had not even troubled to remove his hat. At sight, however, of the girl poring over that refractory passage, with her pretty brows all creased, off came his hat; but no sooner was he uncovered than, with something in his bearing which almost suggested that he was unconscious of what he was doing, he stood and stared. The girl glanced up and looked at him. For some seconds there was silence; then, seeming to come to himself with a start, he ejaculated--. "I beg your pardon; I--I'd no idea!" He did not stay to explain what he had no idea of, but passed into Mr. Hooper's room beyond. As he entered Mr. Hooper rose from his chair; then stared in his turn, as if this was not at all the kind of person he had expected to see. "Frank!" he exclaimed. "What on earth has brought you here?" The gentleman addressed as Frank replied to the question with a statement which was sufficiently startling. "Jack, I've seen a ghost!" Mr. Hooper, as was not unnatural, stared still more. "You've seen what?" "Of course I don't mean that I've seen an actual ghost, but I feel as if I had." "What's given you such a very curious feeling at this hour of the morning? And what's brought you here, anyhow?" The gentleman addressed seemed genuinely disturbed. "I'll tell you, what's brought me if you'll give me time; I'm in a frightful mess, that's what's brought me; but before I tell you anything, you tell me who--who's that girl in the next room?" Mr. Hooper's bearing betrayed annoyance, which was perhaps caused by the singularity of the other's demeanour. "The lady in the next room, whom you speak of as 'that girl,' is----" There was a tapping; the door was opened; the girl in question entered, the "document" over which she had been puzzling in her hand. She crossed to Mr. Hooper. "I beg your pardon if I am interrupting you, but there is something here which I cannot make out; I thought that perhaps you would not mind telling me what it is before you become really engaged." Mr. Hooper took the paper which she held out to him, with a glance towards the gentleman who had just now entered, in which there was a hint of mischief. "Will you allow me to present to you my cousin, Mr. Frank Clifford? Frank, this is Miss Lindsay." "Lindsay!" Mr. Clifford was staring more than ever. "Lindsay! Not--not--I beg your pardon, but--would you mind telling me if you are related to Mr. Donald Lindsay of Cloverlea?" "I am his daughter." "His--daughter? Thank you; thank you."