She first looked into the drawing-room, but it was stale and dreary. The dining-room, which she tried next, made her hungry. The arrival of a servant with a broom suggested to her that she had better get out of the way of the household work. She felt half sorry for getting up, and went out on the lawn to recover her spirits. There she heard a man’s voice trolling a stave somewhere in the direction of the laboratory. Thinking that it might be Lord Carbury, and that, if so, he would probably not wait until half past nine to break his fast, she ran gaily off round the southwest corner of the Cottage to a terrace, from which there was access through a great double window, now wide open, to a lofty apartment roofed with glass. At a large table in the middle of the room sat a man with his back to the window. He had taken off his coat, and was bending over a small round block with little holes sunk into it. Each hole was furnished with a neat brass peg, topped with ebony; and the man was lifting and replacing one of these pegs whilst he gravely watched the dial of an instrument that resembled a small clock. A large straw hat concealed his head, and protected it from the rays that were streaming through the glass roof and open window. The apparent triviality of his occupation, and his intentness upon it, amused Marian. She stole into the laboratory, came close behind him, and said: “Since you have nothing better to do than play cribbage with yourself, I——” She had gently lifted up his straw hat, and found beneath a head that was not Lord Carbury’s. The man, who had cowered with surprise at her touch and voice, but had waited even then to finish an observation of his galvanometer before turning, now turned and stared at her. “I _beg_ your pardon,” said Marian, blushing vigorously. “I thought it was Lord Carbury. I have disturbed you very rudely. I——” “Not at all,” said the man. “I quite understand. I was not playing cribbage, but I was doing nothing very important. However, as you certainly did take me by surprise, perhaps you will excuse my coat.” “Oh, pray dont mind me. I must not interrupt your work.” She looked at his face again, but only for an instant, as he was watching her. Then, with another blush, she put out her hand and said, “How do you do, Mr. Conolly. I did not recognize you at first.” He shook hands, but did not offer any further conversation. “What a wonderful place!” she said, looking round, with a view to making herself agreeable by taking an interest in everything. “Wont you explain it all to me? To begin with, what is electricity?” Conolly stared rather at this question, and then shook his head. “I dont know anything about that,” he said; “I am only a workman. Perhaps Lord Carbury can tell you: he has read a good deal about it.”