"Your cold is better," said Mrs. Perth, when Frank was seated. As a matter of fact it was, as Eustace had left off giving Frank the means to hoarsen his voice after the departure of Denham. "It is better," said Frank, almost in his usual tones. "Jarman has been doctoring me. I'll soon be well." Darrel pricked up his ears and looked at the dark young man. "Have I ever met you before?" he asked. Frank kept his countenance, although he felt that he was in an awkward position. "I think not," he said coldly. While Darrel's lazy eyes strayed over him slowly, Mrs. Perth put in a brisk word. "Mr. O'Neil comes from Ireland," she said. "Have you ever been in Ireland, Mr. Darrel?" "No," he responded, still eyeing Lancaster, who sustained his scrutiny unmoved. "I should never have taken Mr. O'Neil for an Irishman." "That means you have no brogue," said Mildred to Frank, smiling. "But he had one when he came, Mr. Darrel." "You have been here a long time to get rid of it, then?" said Darrel. "Just a few weeks," replied Frank, calmly. Mrs. Perth, with the best intentions, brought Lancaster under the guns of the enemy. "You came just when we were in deep grief over that horrid murder," she said, clicking her needles. "Yes. I remember you saying something about that," said Frank. "I have been in Scotland," said Darrel, suddenly, and taking side-looks at Lancaster's unmoved face, "so I don't know what has happened. Have they caught the man who did it?" "Mr. Lancaster?" said the old lady. "No, they have not." "And I hope they never will," said Mildred, flushing. "From what Mr. Jarman says, I believe Mr. Lancaster is innocent." "Oh!" said Darrel, turning away his eyes from Frank, "so Jarman takes up the cudgels on behalf of this murderer. I remember he was a friend of Lancaster's." "And is," said Frank, incautiously. "You should know," said Darrel, quietly, and with a keen glance, "being his secretary." "I have heard Jarman speak of this matter," replied Frank. He knew that Darrel's suspicions were aroused, and tried to keep the colour from his cheeks. He looked directly at Darrel, and the eyes of the two men met. It was Darrel who first withdrew his gaze. "No," he said at length, "you're not a bit like Lancaster, although you have the same tone of voice." "Has he indeed?" said Mildred, with interest. "Lancaster was fair-haired and white-skinned," went on Darrel. "Whereas I am a dark Celt," said Frank, drawing a long breath, as he deemed the danger was at an end. "Well, don't talk any more about the matter," put in Mrs. Perth, sharply. "You'll upset Mildred, and the affair is too horrible to discuss."