"I _will_ tell you," I replied impressively. "To begin with, the sisters are just what you said; they must have been pretty, one of them at least, in a fair, gentle way, and the younger brother's face is almost saintly. I have got those three pretty clearly defined. But,"-- and here my voice deepened, I feel sure--"_the_ one is the elder brother! He is at the bottom of it all;" and I went on to mention what I had noticed in his expression and bearing. "Don't you remember my telling you so even before I had any reason for it? It was an intuition." Isabel seemed considerably impressed. "Yes," she replied. "I do remember what you said; but you know, Regina, you do give the reins to your imagination sometimes, and I, I suppose, am very matter-of-fact. So you see I didn't think very much of your idea, as you had then _no_ grounds for it. But now I allow that it _does_ seem probable Mr Grey's face is all you say; it tells of cruel struggle, and endurance too, while the others rather express patience and resignation. He must--the elder one, I mean--have been very good-looking." "He has a very high-bred look," I agreed. "But, Isabel, who can my stranger have been? Is it possible that there is a fifth member of the party who is kept dark altogether?" Isabel shook her head. "Quite impossible, I should say; besides, the man you met was young. He could not have been reared up there from boyhood." "He may have joined them lately," I said; but on reflection I decided that even this was improbable. "No," I went on, "I am sure he does not live there. There was a cheery, open-air sound in his voice. I think he was very nice-looking. Tall and a very good figure, that I am sure of." Suddenly Isabel gave a little exclamation. "What's the matter?" I cried. "Only something that has just struck me," was the reply. "How stupid of me not to have thought of it before. I do believe that your man, Regina, was the younger of the two visitors who came to the Grim House not long ago!" "Why should you think so?" I asked, a little desirous perhaps that my _trouvaille_ should be entirely my own. "Especially as you said yourself that the others came and went openly?" "I don't quite know," said Isabel slowly. "It was something in your way of describing him just now that seemed to recall the man who asked me the way to the church." Fortunately perhaps, at this moment Mr Wynyard overtook us, and our thoughts, which were becoming too absorbed in the mysterious subject, were for the time being distracted. Not for very long, however. The next morning found us, as we had planned, starting off on a search expedition. The door in the wall was the object of our quest, and on the way to the spot where it must be, if it existed at all, I pointed out to Isabel the exact place where I had met the stranger, and the distance down the road that he had gone to look for his lost property.