"Never, Stephen--never, while you are so obstinate." "Come, come, dear," he said, kissing her again; "let me put your pillow a little more easy, and we won't talk of the past; it cannot interest Antony Grace. Where has Linny hidden herself?" "I suppose she is seeing after the cooking," said Mrs Hallett querulously. "We have no servants now, Mr Grace." "No, Antony," said Mr Hallett, laughing; and I could not help contrasting the man I saw before me--so bright, airy, and tender in his ways--with the stern, rather grim-looking workman of the office. "No servants; I clean my own boots and help with the cooking, too. It is inconvenient, for my dear mother here is a great invalid." "Helpless for seventeen years, Mr Grace," said the poor woman, looking at me piteously. "We used to have a carriage, but we have none now. Stephen is very kind to me, only he will be so thoughtless; and he is so wanting in ambition, clever as he is." "There, dear, we won't talk about that now," said Mr Hallett. "Come Antony; my sister will not show herself, so we'll find her blooming in flour, or carving potato rings, or handling a truncheon bigger than that of your friend Mr Revitts as she makes the paste. Oh, here she is!" A door opened as he spoke, and I quite started as a bright, pretty girl entered, and came forward smiling pleasantly to shake hands. She seemed to bring sunshine into the room, and, damped as I was by Mrs Hallett's reception and the prospect of a dull, cheerless day, the coming of Miss Hallett seemed quite to change the state of affairs. "I am very glad to see you," she said, showing her little white teeth. "Stephen has so often talked about you, and said he would bring you home." "Ah, me, yes, home!" sighed Mrs Hallett, glancing round the shabby apartment. Not that it seemed shabby any longer to me, for Linny, in her tight, well-fitting, plain holland dress, white collar and cuffs, and with her long golden-brown, naturally curling hair, seemed to me to radiate brightness all around. For she certainly was very pretty, and her large, well-shaded eyes seemed to flash with animation as she spoke. "Antony Grace and I are going for a walk, Linny, and we shall come back hungry as hunters. Don't make any mistake in the cooking." She nodded and laughed, and her fair curls glistened in the light, while Mrs Hallett sighed again; and it struck me that she was about to say something in disparagement of the dinner, but she did not speak. "Come along then, Antony," said Mr Hallett; and, after kissing the invalid, he led the way down stairs, and we strolled off towards Regent's Park. As we left the house, the shadow seemed to come down again over Mr Hallett's face, and from that time I noticed that he seemed to lead a double life--one in which he was bright and merry, almost playful, before his mother and sister; the other, a life of stern, fixed purpose, in which his soul was bent upon some pursuit.