“Your wishes are my commands, Sir Gilbert.” “How soon will it be convenient for you to start?” “In thirty-six hours from now I shall be at your disposal.” “Trust you old soldiers for knowing the value of time. And now that we have settled everything so far, you must oblige me by staying to luncheon,” said Sir Gilbert with a heartiness that was more assumed than real. Do what he would, he could not like this man. And yet he had nothing valid, nothing tangible to urge against him. “I am a prejudiced old fool,” he said to himself, “and the older I get the worse I become.” At luncheon the Captain was fortunate enough to give Lady Pell a distinctly favourable impression of himself, which went to prove that Lady Pell’s professed ability to read character at first sight was sometimes at fault. “I agree with you that the man is not _quite_ a gentleman,” she remarked later to Sir Gilbert; “but in that respect he only resembles the great majority of his sex. In these matters, my dear cousin, one can’t pick and choose. It seems to me that Captain Verinder, as the boy’s uncle, is the proper person to entrust him to.” Next morning after breakfast, Luigi said to Lady Pell when no one was by: “Can you spare me five minutes in private, Lady Pell?” “Certainly, my dear boy,” was the cordial response. “Come with me to my sitting-room.” There was much about Luigi that she did not like, but it seemed to her that in some respects he was deserving of pity. “And now——?” she said, looking questioningly at him as she took her usual chair by the window and motioned him to another. The room, which had been specially assigned her, had been the late Lady Clare’s boudoir. Luigi cleared his voice and then, a whimsical smile overspreading his features, said: “Lady Pell, last night I saw the Grey Brother.” Lady Pell pricked up her ears and became at once interested. “Gracious me!” she exclaimed. “You do indeed surprise me. When and where did it happen? You must give me all particulars.”