I looked at him intently. Now that the fact itself had been suggested to me, I could certainly trace come faint likeness. But what puzzled me most was that he seemed also to remind me, although more vaguely, of someone else, whom I could not call to mind at all. Neither did he seem particularly anxious for me to assist him, for, as though somewhat annoyed at my close scrutiny, he rose abruptly to his feet. "Come, what do you say to cigarettes and coffee? We are outstaying everybody here." I followed him downstairs into the smoke-room. We seated ourselves upon a luxurious divan, and the Count immediately began to talk about his son. "And so you know Leonard? How strange! Do you see much of one another?" "Naturally, considering that there are only three of us at Dr. Randall's," I reminded him. "Ah, just so! And your other fellow pupil is young Lord Silchester, is he not? Rather an awkward number, three. Do you all chum together pretty well?" What was I to say? I could not tell him that my relations with his son were decidedly inimical; so, after a moment's hesitation, I answered a little evasively: "I'm afraid we're not a very sociable trio. You see, Cis and I are very keen on out-of-door amusements, and your son rather prefers reading." He nodded. "Yes; I quite understand. You and Lord Silchester are thoroughly English, and essentially so in your tastes and love of sport. Leonard, now, is more than half a foreigner. His mother was an Austrian lady, and I myself am of French extraction. By the by, Mr. Morton, may I ask you a question--in confidence?" he added slowly. "Certainly." "It is about Leonard. I don't think that you need have any scruples about telling me, for I am his father, you know, and have a certain right to know everything about him." He looked at me gravely, as though for confirmation of his words, and I silently expressed my assent. Leonard de Cartienne was nothing to me; and if his father was going to ask me the question which I hoped he was, he should have a straightforward answer. "I sent my son to Dr. Randall's," he began, sinking his voice to a confidential whisper, "not because he was backward in his studies--for such is not, I believe, the case--but because he has unfortunately inherited a very deplorable taste. I found it out only by accident, and it was a very great shock to me. Leonard is fond--too fond--of playing cards for money. I thought that at Borden Tower he would have no opportunity for indulging this lamentable weakness; but from what I have recently heard about Dr. Randall, it has occurred to me that he is perhaps a little too much of the student and too little of the schoolmaster. You understand me? I mean that he is perhaps so closely wrapped up in his private work, that after the hours which he gives to his pupils for instruction they may secure almost as much liberty as though they were at college."