"This man is evidently staying with him; making himself at home too," said the major. "He was in a dressing-gown and slippers, and had his feet on the fender, smoking a pipe. A tall, dark fellow, face all hair." "Why, that is Collinson himself," cried I. "Not a bit of it," said the major. "This man is no more like Collinson--except that Collinson is dark and has a beard--than he is like me. He said he was a stranger in the place." A rapid conclusion crossed me that it must be a brother of Collinson's--for a resemblance to himself, according to the major's description, there no doubt was. Major Leckie wished me good-day, and continued his way up the street, Dr. Knox with him. "What are you gazing at, Johnny Ludlow?" I turned at the question, and saw Charlotte Knox. She was coming to call on Janet. We stood there talking of one thing and another. I told Charlotte that Collinson's brother, as I took it to be, was staying with him; and Charlotte told me of a quarrel she had just had with Mina on the score of the captain. "Mina won't believe a word against him, Johnny. When I say he is nothing but a flirt, that he is only playing with her, she bids me hold my tongue. She quite scorns the notion that he would like to marry Miss Belmont." "Have you seen any more letters, that concern me, in at Madame St. Vincent's?" I asked. "Do you think I should be likely to?--or that such letters are as plentiful as blackberries?" retorted Charlotte. "And you?--have you discovered the key to that letter?" "I have not discovered it, Charlotte. I have taxed my memory in vain. Never a girl, no matter whose sister she may be, can I recall to mind as being likely to owe me a grudge." "It was not that the girl owed you a grudge," quickly spoke Charlotte. "It was that she must not meet you." "Does not the one thing imply the other? I can't think of any one. There was a young lady, indeed, in the years gone by, when I was not much more than a lad, who--may--have--taken up a prejudice against me," I added slowly and thoughtfully, for I was hardly sure of what I said. "But she cannot have anything to do with the present matter, and I am quite sure she was not a sister of Madame St. Vincent." "What was her name?" asked Charlotte. "Sophie Chalk." LADY JENKINS. LIGHT. I. Tod arrived at Lefford. I met him at the train, just as I had met Miss Cattledon, who was with us still. As we walked out of the station together, many a man cast a glance after the tall, fine young fellow--who looked strong enough to move the world, if, like Archimedes, the geometrician of Syracuse, he had only possessed the necessary lever. "Shall you be able to stay a week, Tod?" "Two weeks if they'd like it, Johnny. How you have picked up, lad!" "Picked up?" "In looks. They are all your own again. Glad to see it, old fellow."