"So it is Paul now. What is he like?" And Percival Desborough eyed the girl keenly. "You would like him," she returned with enthusiasm. "You feel you can confide in him. To me he is almost like one of my brothers, only, of course, he is much older. But he appears quite young—somehow you forget his age." "What is his age?" "Oh, he must be thirty," Hazel answered, as one who speaks, with both pity and reverence, of a life well-nigh spent. Her uncle chuckled amusedly. "Is he bald?" he asked. "He has got most beautiful thick hair," Hazel returned indignantly. There was a pause. "By the way," her uncle remarked, "where did you get your dark looks?" "It is a sort of freak," Hazel rejoined, half apologetically. "It occurs in the family every now and again. Years and years ago there was a Hazel Le Mesurier like me, only very much prettier; there is a portrait of her in the gallery at home, dated 1661, taken of her when she was five years old." "It is a relief to hear she was prettier," Mr. Desborough said drily. "But about Hugh: what does young Charteris want with a private secretary?" Hazel opened her eyes. "Oh," she explained, "he has heaps of things to see to and look after. He was saying only the other day that he thinks, if Hugh does not mind, he will get an older man, and let Hugh be assistant secretary." Mr. Desborough stared at her aghast. "That would be nothing more nor less than an act of charity bestowed upon the lad," he said at length. "Nothing will make me believe that Charteris requires two secretaries. He wants an excuse to help the family, so he keeps on a worthless young man." "How can you say such a thing!" Hazel cried hotly. "Mr. Charteris begged to have him, and told mother it would be a great convenience, because, Hazelhurst being so near, he need not live at Earnscleugh, as most secretaries would have to do." "A good argument, truly," her uncle remarked curtly. "I shall inquire into the matter directly I get home," the girl continued, more quietly, "and if I see or suspect the faintest reason to believe there is anything in what you say, Hugh shall at once come away, and look for something else. Worthless, indeed!"—her wrath rising again—"Why, he would be a very clever artist if only he could learn." "There, there," said her uncle pettishly, "I may be wrong." But he was fairly well convinced of the way in which matters stood, and felt a twinge of discomfort as he made a shrewd guess at the feelings entertained towards himself by young Charteris, should that young man learn of the suspicion he had sown in the mind of his niece. Luncheon over, they returned as they came—under the safe escort of Thomas—and were once more established in the library. Hazel consulted the clock. "I ought to leave here in half an hour," she observed, making an effort to regain her composure, and resolutely setting aside this new matter for troubled thought till she should have quiet and leisure.