I derived the stimulus I needed from a bottle of my master's champagne. Afterwards I felt better, but I also felt that I should never be able to smile light-heartedly again. The hours that followed I devoted to thoughts of Marion Le Mar. I admitted to myself that I loved her, and deep down in my heart I knew that for her sake and at her bidding I would sacrifice, if need arose, anything, even my life. It was a strange conviction that, to be entertained by a man like me--a man whose motto had ever been--"First person paramount." And yet I speedily recognized that it was as much a part of me as my hand, and might only as easily be combated or parted with. I had no hope of winning her, however, no hope at all, hardly even a wish. She seemed set as far beyond my reach as the stars, and her contemplation inspired me with a realization of my unworthiness and her divinity which was neither humiliating nor discomforting. "For," thought I, "the stars shine upon us all, the noble and the base alike, and who shall say that they discriminate between the ardent looks of worshippers?" The bell rang and I opened the door for Mr. Sefton Dagmar. In one second I comprehended why Sir William disliked his nephew. My master, for all his faults, was a deep-natured man of large mental mould. Before me stood his absolute antithesis. I saw a small, shallow, smiling, cunning face, that betrayed to the keen observer every emotion of the mind. The features were regular, even handsome, yet puny, and the soul that looked out of his eyes was facile, treacherous and sycophantic. He wore a slight yellow moustache, and his eyebrows were white. He looked too young. I judged him to be twenty-five. He was tall and very slight; he wore a pale brown overcoat and a suit beneath of tasteless checked tweed. "Mr. Sefton Dagmar?" I asked with deference. He nodded, looking me swiftly up and down. "Uncle in?" he airily demanded. "No, sir; but I expect him shortly. Will you step inside?" "Might as well," he drawled, but he entered with alacrity, and I led the way to the ante-chamber. "Where is my uncle?" he enquired, as I removed his overcoat. "I do not know, sir?" "He got my card, I suppose?" "Not yet, sir. He has been away." "All night?" "Yes sir." He whistled then faced me with a cunning smile. "You are new," he began. "Where is Butts?" "He left a month ago." "What is your name?" "Brown, sir?" He nodded, eyeing me as a cat might a mouse. "You look a good sort," he declared presently. "How do you get on with my uncle, Brown?" I affected to hesitate. "Fairly well, thank you, sir," I replied stammering a little. "That means damned poorly," he retorted, nodding his head again. "Oh! I know him, Brown; I know him, you need'nt tell me. Why Brown, I'm his only living relative, his sole heir, and how do you think he treats me?" "I'm sure I don't know, sir?"