"Exactly," was his answer as his mouth relaxed into a smile. "A very strong attachment exists between the Professor and myself. I am happy to believe, indeed, that I am one of his closest friends--at least, that is what he declared when I asked his permission to marry Ethelwynn. Perhaps as regards finance I am not all that he might desire," he said frankly. "I'm not by any means rich, Mr. Holford. In fact, I'm simply a hard-working business man, but I have a very generous and kind employer in Sir Albert Oppenheim, and my position as his confidential secretary is one of great trust." "Sir Albert Oppenheim!" I echoed. "Why, he's supposed to be one of the wealthiest men in England!" "He probably is," laughed my friend. "Every rich man, however, has enemies, and he is no exception. I've read and heard spoken many very unkind libels about him; but take it, from one who knows, that no man in all England performs more charitable work in secret than he." The name recalled several rumours I had heard, ugly rumours of dishonourable dealings in the City, where he was one of the greatest, shrewdest, and most powerful of modern financiers. I had grown to like Leonard Langton for his frankness. That he was devoted to the unfortunate girl was very plain, and naturally he was anxious and puzzled at her failure to be at home to receive him after an absence of a month in Portugal, where he had, he told me, been engaged upon the purchase of the tramways of Lisbon by an English syndicate formed by Sir Albert. He lived in chambers in Wimpole Street, with a great chum of his who was a doctor, and he invited me to look him up, while I began to tell him a little about myself, my motor business, and my friends. He was a motor enthusiast, I quickly found; therefore I, on my part, invited him to come down to Chiswick and go out for a day's run on the "ninety." Thus it occurred that, seated in that house of mystery, nay, in that very room where I had seen his well-beloved lying cold and dead, we became friends. Ah! if I had but known one tithe of what that hastily-formed friendship was to cost me! But if the future were not hidden, surely there would be neither interest nor enjoyment in the present. Suddenly, and without warning, I launched upon him the one question which had been ever uppermost in my mind during all the time we had sat together. "I have met on several occasions," I said, "a great friend of the Professor's, a man you probably know--Kirk--Kershaw Kirk." I watched his face as I uttered the words. But, quite contrary to my expectations, its expression was perfectly blank. The name brought no sign of recognition of the man to his eyes, which met mine unwaveringly. "Kirk?" he repeated thoughtfully. "No, I've never met him--at least, not to my knowledge. Was he young--or old?" "Elderly, and evidently he is a very intimate friend of Greer's."