As I stood leaning over the small side-gate, there came out of that house a man; a gentleman, to appearance; short, and with a dark face. But of the latter I caught but a passing glimpse, for he turned his back immediately to look up at the front of the house. Calling to a manservant, he appeared to be pointing out something that he wished done, or finding fault with something that had been left undone. I could not hear the words but I could the tones; they were authoritative, as was his manner. He was evidently the master. I thought I had seen him before, for there was something in his figure, and even in the passing sight of his face, which struck upon me as being familiar. I waited for him to turn again, that I might obtain a better view; but he did not, and soon went in. I walked back to a shady bench, and began reading. It was underneath the trees that shaded the side of the broad open walk. Presently the sound of two people, apparently encountering each other, reached me from behind the shrubs. "Are you here alone, Ethel?" was asked by Mr. Chandos. "Yes, I took a fancy to come; I and my kitten. Mrs. Freeman said wait an hour or two, and perhaps she could come with me. She is ill." "What ails her?" "I don't know. She often complains now; pains come in her head." "Did you unlock the book-case in the library and leave the curtains undrawn?" "What book-case?" returned Mrs. Chandos. "_That_ book-case." "What next, Harry! As if I should do anything of the sort!" "You had the keys last night. And no one opens that book-case but yourself." "I did open that book-case, I remember, and undraw the curtains; I thought they were dusty, but I'm sure I thought I drew them again. I'm very sorry." "Be more cautious for the future, Ethel. Lady Chandos is vexed. You see, while this young lady is in the house——" "But I cannot see what business she has in the library," interrupted Mrs. Chandos, in a quick complaining tone. "A stranger has no right to the run of the house. I think you must be all out of your minds to have her here at all." "In regard to the library, Ethel, I told her——" They were the last words that reached me. Mrs. Chandos, ever changeable, was walking rapidly to the house again. Presently Mr. Chandos came down the broad walk, saw me, and approached. "Are you fond of Shakespeare's works?" he asked, when he knew what I was reading. "I have never read them, sir." "Never read them!" he cried, in surprise. "You cannot mean that, Miss Hereford." "But, sir, I have always been at school. And schoolgirls have no opportunity of obtaining such works. At my English school, Miss Fenton's, there were some volumes of Shakespeare in the governess's private parlour; but I never saw anything of them but their backs." "Have you never read Byron?" "Oh no." "Nor any novels?" "Not any books of that kind." He looked at me with a half smile, standing with his back against a tree. "I think I understood from my sister that you are an orphan?"