Brownlow, as he went with her, was but the first subject in her kingdom. Nobody admired her as he did. Nobody set her up above every competitor with the perfect faith of her father; and to see her clinging to his arm, lifting up her fresh face to him, displaying all her philosophies and caprices for his benefit, was a pretty sight. But yet, all through that long walk to Dewsbury and back, he never ventured to disclose his secret to her. All the time it lay on his heart, but he could not bring himself to say it. It was only when they were all leaving the table, after luncheon, that Mr. Brownlow unburdened himself. “By the way,” he said suddenly, as he rose from his chair, “there is some one coming out to dinner from Masterton. Oh, not any body that makes much difference--a young fellow--” “Some young fellows make a great deal of difference,” said Sara. “Who is it, papa?” “Well--at present he is--only one of my clerks,” said Mr. Brownlow, with an uneasy and, to tell the truth, rather humble and deprecating smile--“one you have seen before--he was out here that day I was ill.” “Oh, Mr. Powys,” said Sara; and in a moment, before another word was spoken, her sublime indifference changed into the brightest gleam of malice, of mischief, of curiosity, that ever shone out of two blue eyes. “I remember him perfectly well--all about him,” she said, with a touch of emphasis that was not lost on her father. “Is there any body else, papa?” “Powys!” said Jack, turning back in amaze. He had been going out not thinking of any thing; but this intimation, coming just after the news of the office about Powys’s increase of salary, roused his curiosity, and called him back to hear. “Yes, Powys,” said Mr. Brownlow, standing on his defense like a guilty man. “I hope you have not any objection.” “Objection, sir?” said Jack; “I don’t know what you mean. It is your house, to ask any body you like. I never should have thought of making any objection.” “Yes, it is my own house,” said Mr. Brownlow. It made him feel a little sore to have the plea about doing what he liked with his own thus taken, as it were, out of his very mouth. “But I don’t remember that you ever asked any of the clerks before,” said Jack. It was not that he cared much about the invitation to the clerk; it was rather because he was disagreeable himself, and could not resist the chance of being disagreeable to others, being in a highly uncomfortable state of mind. “I don’t regard Powys as a mere clerk--there are circumstances,” said Mr. Brownlow. “It is useless to explain at this moment; but I don’t put him on the same level with Brown and Robinson. I should be glad if you could manage to be civil to him, Jack.”