An idea which had been maturing in my slow-moving brain for some time suddenly took a definite shape. "It is extremely kind of you," I said. "I shall be delighted to leave the matter in your hands. But when you have made the _precis_, I wonder if you would be so good as to bring it to my house instead of sending it?" I gave him my address, and we parted. Robert Chalmers Fordyce arrived at my house next morning. He brought with him a budget of condensed but exhaustive information on the subject of Caerulea, the assimilation and ultimate discharge of which enabled me to score a signal victory over Mr Wuddiford of Upper Gumbtree, relegating that champion exploiter of mare's nests to a sphere of comparative inoffensiveness for quite a considerable time. After reading the _precis_, I offered Robin the position of my Private Secretary, which he accepted politely but without servility or effusiveness. I handed him a quarter's salary in advance, gave him two days' holiday wherein to "make his arrangements"--_Anglice_, to replenish his wardrobe--and we sealed the bargain with a glass of sherry and a biscuit apiece. As he rose to go, Robin took from his pocket a folded manuscript. "I see you have a good fire there," he said. He stepped across to the hearth-rug and pitched the document into the heart of the flames, which began to lick it caressingly. Presently the heat caused the crackling paper to unfold itself, and some of the writing became visible. Robert pointed, and I read-- _"Pars about Personalities. A capital story is at present going the round of the clubs, anent----"_ Here the flimsy manuscript burst into flame, and shot with a roar up the chimney. I looked at Robert Chalmers Fordyce, and his face was the face of a man who has gone through deep waters, but feels the good solid rock beneath his feet at last. He turned dumbly to me, and held out his hand. The worst of these inarticulate and undemonstrative people is that they hurt you so. CHAPTER FOUR. A TRIAL TRIP. Three days later I introduced Robert Chalmers Fordyce into the bosom of my family. I had declined to give them any previous information about him, beyond a brief warning that they would find him "rather Scotch." I have always found it utterly impossible to foretell from a man's behaviour towards his own sex how he will comport himself in the presence of females. I have known a raw youth, hitherto regarded as the hobbledehoy of the shooting-party and the pariah of the smoking-room, lord it among the ladies like a very lion; and I have seen the hero of a hundred fights, the master of men, the essence of intrepid resolution, stand quaking outside a drawing-room door. The _debut_ of Robin, then, I awaited with considerable interest. I expected on the whole to see him tongue-tied, especially before Dolly and Dilly. On the other hand he might be aggressively assertive.