She reasoned rapidly, and as rapidly arrived at her conclusions. The first of those was, that Lucian Davlin, by his intolerance and unkindness, had fitted a tool to her hand, and she, therefore, as a preliminary step, must propitiate and win the confidence of this same tool left by his master within her reach. "And will you carry my letter, Henry, and return with an answer as soon as you can? You will find the person at this hour without any trouble." "Master ordered me to attend to your wants," replied the man, in a somewhat surly tone. She understood this somber inflection, and said: "He 'ordered' you? Yes, I see; is your master always as hard to please as to-day, Henry? He certainly was a little unkind." "He's always the same, madame," said the man, gloomily. Her words brought vividly before his mind's eye the many instances of his master's unkindness. "I'm sorry he is not kind to you," said the girl, hypocritically. "And I don't want you to carry this letter because _he_ ordered you. I want you to do it to oblige _me_, Henry, and it will make me always your friend." Ah, Henry, one resentful gleam from your eyes, as you stood behind the chair of your tyrant, has given to this slight girl the clue by which to sway you to her will. She was smiling upon him, and the man replied, in gratitude: "I'll do anything for you, madame." "Thank you, Henry. I was sure I could trust you. Will you get me some writing material, please?" Henry crossed to the handsome davenport, and found it locked. But when taking this precaution, Davlin overlooked the fact that Cora's last gift--a little affair intended for the convenience of travelers, being a combined dressing case and writing desk, the dividing compartment of which contained an excellent cabinet photograph of the lady herself, so enshrined as to be the first thing to greet the eyes of whosoever should open the little receptacle--was still accessible. Failing to open the davenport, Henry turned to this; and pressing upon the spring lock, exposed to the view of Madeline, standing near, the pictured face of Cora. Spite of his grievances, the sense of his duty was strong upon him, and he put himself between the girl and the object of her interest. Not so quickly but that she saw, and understood the movement. Stepping to his side, she put out her hand, saying: "What an exquisite picture--Madame Cora, is it not, Henry?" She was looking him full in the eyes, and he answered, staring in astonishment the while: "Yes, miss." "She is very handsome," mused the girl, as if to herself: "left just before my arrival, I think?" she added, at a venture. Again her eyes searched his face, and again he gave a surprised assent. "Do you like her, Henry?" questioned she, intent on her purpose. "She is just like _him_," he said, jerking his head grimly, while his voice took again a resentful tone. "She thinks a man who is _black_ has no feelings."