“Mr. Aynesworth,” he said, “I must throw myself upon your consideration. You can possibly surmise the reason of my visit.” Aynesworth shook his head. “I am afraid,” he said, “that I must plead guilty to denseness--in this particular instance, at any rate. I am altogether at a loss to account for it.” “You have had some conversation with my wife, I believe?” “Yes. But--” “Before you proceed, Mr. Aynesworth,” Barrington interrupted, “one word. You are aware that Sir Wingrave Seton is in possession of certain documents in which my wife is interested, which he refuses to give up?” “I have understood that such is the case,” Aynesworth admitted. “Will you pardon me if I add that it is a matter which I can scarcely discuss?” Barrington shrugged his shoulders. “Let it go, for the moment,” he said. “There is something else which I want to say to you.” Aynesworth nodded a little curtly. He was not very favorably impressed with his visitor. “Well!” Barrington leaned forward in his chair. “Mr. Aynesworth,” he said, “you have made for yourself some reputation as a writer. Your name has been familiar to me for some time. I was at college, I believe, with your uncle, Stanley Aynesworth.” He paused. Aynesworth said nothing. “I want to know,” Barrington continued impressively, “what has induced you to accept a position with such a man as Seton?” “That,” Aynesworth declared, “is easily answered. I was not looking for a secretaryship at all, or anything of the sort, but I chanced to hear his history one night, and I was curious to analyze, so far as possible, his attitude towards life and his fellows, on his reappearance in it. That is the whole secret.” Barrington leaned back in his chair, and glanced thoughtfully at his companion. “You know the story of his misadventures, then?” he remarked. “I know all about his imprisonment, and the cause of it,” Aynesworth said quietly. Barrington was silent for several moments. He felt that he was receiving but scanty encouragement. “Is it worth while, Mr. Aynesworth?” he asked at length. “There is better work for you in the world than this.” Again Aynesworth preferred to reply by a gesture only. Barrington was watching him steadily. “A political secretaryship, Mr. Aynesworth,” he said, “might lead you anywhere. If you are ambitious, it is the surest of all stepping stones into the House. After that, your career is in your own hands. I offer you such a post.” “I am exceedingly obliged to you,” Aynesworth replied, “but I scarcely understand.” “I have influence,” Barrington said, “which I have never cared to use on my own account. I am willing to use it on yours. You have only to say the word, and the matter is arranged.” “I can only repeat,” Aynesworth said, “that I am exceedingly obliged to you, Mr. Barrington, but I cannot understand why you should interest yourself so much on my behalf.”