All this, the thought of an instant. Meanwhile he had been studying me well. “You understand my position,” he commented. “Wednesday night I speak in C---, Thursday, in R---, while she--” With an effort he pulled himself together. “Miss--” “Saunders,” I put in. “Miss Saunders, I can not leave her alone in the house. Some one must be there to guard and watch--” “Has she no mother?” I suggested in the pause he made. “She has no living relatives, and mine are uncongenial to her.” This to save another question. I understood him perfectly. “I can not ask any of them to stay with her,” he pursued decisively. “She would not consent to it. Nor can I ask any of her friends. That she does not wish, either. But I can hire a companion. To that she has already consented. That she will regard as a kindness, if the lady chosen should prove to be one of those rare beings who carry comfort in their looks without obtruding their services or displaying the extent of their interest. You know there are some situations in which the presence of a stranger may be more grateful than that of a friend. Apparently, my wife feels herself so placed now.” Here his eyes again read my face, an ordeal out of which I came triumphant; the satisfaction he evinced rightly indicated his mind. “Will you accept the position?” he asked. “We have one little child. You will have no charge of her save as you may wish to make use of her in reaching the mother.” The hint conveyed in the last phrase gave me courage to say: “You wish me to reach her?” “With comfort,” said he. “And if in doing so I learn her trouble?” “You will win my eternal gratitude by telling it to one who would give ten years of his life to assuage it.” My head rose. I began to feel that my next step must strike solid ground. “In other words to be quite honest--you wish me to learn her trouble if I can.” “I believe you can be trusted to do so.” “And then to reveal it to you?” “If your sense of duty permits,--which I think it will.” I might have uttered in reply, “A spy’s duty?” but the high-mindedness of his look forbade. Whatever humiliation his wishes put upon me, there could be no question of the uprightness of his motives regarding his wife. I ventured one more question. “How far shall I feel myself at liberty to go in this attempt?” “As far as your judgment approves and circumstances seem to warrant. I know that you will come upon nothing dishonorable to her, or detrimental to our relations as husband and wife, in this secret which is destroying our happiness. Her affection for me is undoubted, but something--God knows what--has laid waste her life. To find and annihilate that something is my first and foremost duty. It does not fit well with those other duties pressing upon me from the political field, does it? That is why I have called in help. That is why I have called you in.”