“In the matter of investigation?” he inquired. “They are coming here this afternoon with Captain Palliser to--to question the servants, and some of the villagers. They will question me,” alarmedly. “They would be sure to do that,”--he really seemed quite to envelop her with kindness--“but I beg of you not to be alarmed. Nothing you could have to say could possibly do harm to Temple Barholm.” He knew it was her fear of this contingency which terrified her. “You do feel sure of that?” she burst forth, relievedly. “You do--because you know him?” “I do. Let us be calm, dear lady. Let us be calm.” “I will! I will!” she protested. “But Captain Palliser has arranged that a lady should come here--a lady who disliked poor Temple very much. She was most unjust to him.” “Lady Joan Fayre?” he suggested, and then paused with a remote smile as if lending himself for the moment to some humor he alone detected in the situation. “She will not injure his cause, I think I can assure you.” “She insisted on misunderstanding him. I am so afraid--” The appearance of Pearson at the door interrupted her and caused her to rise from her seat. The neat young man was pale and spoke in a nervously lowered voice. “I beg pardon, Miss. I beg your Grace's pardon for intruding, but--” Miss Alicia moved toward him in such a manner that he himself seemed to feel that he might advance. “What is it, Pearson? Have you anything special to say?” “I hope I am not taking too great a liberty, Miss, but I did come in for a purpose, knowing that his Grace was with you and thinking you might both kindly advise me. It is about Mr. Temple Barholm, your Grace--” addressing him as if in involuntary recognition of the fact that he might possibly prove the greater support. “Our Mr. Temple Barholm, Pearson? We are being told there are two of them.” The duke's delicate emphasis on the possessive pronoun was delightful, and it so moved and encouraged sensitive little Pearson that he was emboldened to answer with modest firmness: “Yes,--ours. Thank you, your Grace.” “You feel him yours too, Pearson?” a shade more delightfully still. “I--I take the liberty, your Grace, of being deeply attached to him, and more than grateful.” “What did you want to ask advice about?” “The family solicitors. Captain Palliser and Lady Joan Fayre and Mr. and Miss Hutchinson are to be here shortly, and I have been told I am to be questioned. What I want to know, your Grace, is--” He paused, and looked no longer pale but painfully red as he gathered himself together for his anxious outburst--“Must I speak the truth?” Miss Alicia started alarmedly. The duke looked down at the delicate fawn gaiters covering his fine instep. His fleeting smile was not this time an external one. “Do you not wish to speak the truth, Pearson?” Pearson's manner could have been described only as one of obstinate frankness. “No, your Grace. I do not! Your Grace may misunderstand me--but I do not!”